Angelus Erroneous
by Spike 558
Summary: In the vast universe of Warhammer 40,000 there exists an Ork world beyond the fringes of the Imperium where a group of mercenaries wage a guerilla war in the name of survival. This is their story.
1. Wreckage

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** One

The escape pod was well and truly ruined. What was once a mighty construct of steel and that once travelled, with the rest of the ship, from one end of the universe to the other, was now a smoking wreck. Riddled with bullet holes, scorch marks and gaping holes in its sides, there was next nothing left of the hulk and nothing that was worth recovering.

All around the ruin was a legion of broken bodies: Some were the tall, skinny bodies of humans whilst the rest were the short, burly bodies of the Orks. And in amongst the bodies, lay a whole range of weapons: chainswords, bolt pistols, laspistols and a whole lot more besides – some of the distinctive, ramshackle Ork manufacture and some of the ubiquitous Imperial make.

As the sun began to set over the horizon, a soft call rang out across the horizon – one that came from a group of crows that had just arrived to the scene.

The battle was over.

Apart from the group of crows that has just gathered, there was not one living soul left on the battlefield. Anything that resembled a humanoid was the corpses of the many participants of the battle of the hulk.

But this scene of brutal tranquilly was about to get an unexpected interruption.

And this is where I come in.

My name is Narc. I'm a lean looking man dressed in a large greatcoat, a black shirt and blue leggings. I'm armed with a pair of bolt pistols strapped to my sides and chains of bullets wrapped around my chest. I also have a massive scar on his left cheek and a shaven head. Essentially, I don't look like the type one would seriously want to mess with.

My companion was more flamboyant in comparison. He had a more unusual choice in clothes in that he had the uniform of an Imperial starship captain accompanied silver shoulder pads. This was accompanied by a chainsword strapped to his side and a shoulder holster concealing a laspistol. He also had a real sharp face, accompanied with a well-trimmed goatee, a gaze that radiated with deep intellect and a smile of winning proportions.

His name was Xerxes. And him and myself slowly strode into the battlefield, each surveying the place with greedy eyes.

"Would you take a look at this?" I muttered. "Just what the hell happened here?"

Xerxes rubbed his beard with his hand in a thoughtful manner, as we both fell under the shadow of the pod.

"No doubt this huge thing" he theorised, nodding to the escape pod "crashed onto this planet and the Orks wanted to plunder it."

"What the hell is that thing?" I replied. "It looks like an escape pod."

"Funny you should mention that, Narc" he chuckled. "It is an escape pod! Judging from it's construct, I say it's an Imperial make."

"I suppose you would know through your years as a Rogue Trader, hrm?" I replied sarcastically.

"Of course not!" Xerxes grinned. "I just noted the giant insignia!"

And he pointed up at the top of the escape pod where the distinctive Imperial Double-Headed Eagle was situated.

I ground my teeth. But then I shook my head.

"What do you think happened, Xerxes?" I inquired.

He didn't reply immediately. Instead, he then looked up at the pod as his brow furrowed in a thoughtful manner.

"Well, I guess that this escape pod must come from an Imperial ship that ran into some sort of trouble. The pod carried a handful of people into a crash landing onto the surface of this planet.

"Judging by these marks the pod left" Xerxes went on, gesturing towards a huge rift of rock and dirt that stretched a distance from the crash site "It must've hit the surface with such an impact that it killed several of the occupants. The Orks must've found out about it and butchered the few remaining."

"Poor bastards" I muttered sardonically.

"What worries me however" he added. "Is that if those damned greenskins had been here before us, it may mean there won't a lot left of this escape pod for us to use."

"True" I muttered. "And if not, then chances are they're already on their way."

"Best we get moving, wouldn't you agree?" Xerxes inquired.

"Right then" I said, now adopting a commanding manner. "You go investigate the pod and I'll go search the bodies."

"Sure"

Xerxes than stepped around the pod whilst I proceeded to examine the various corpses strewn across the battlefield.

I knelt down beside the body of mangled human – one whose features were disfigured beyond recognition and who wore, what looked like, the remnants of an Imperial officer's uniform. The body's dead fingers still clutched an imperial laspistol.

I pried the fingers apart to retrieve the laspistol. The officer wouldn't be needing it now….

I examined the pistol: It was still in good condition and even had a fair amount of power left. I grinned – what a useful find…..

I then turned towards, to face a carcass of an Ork situated several feet away. I then aimed and fired pistol at the former greenskin. The Ork's head promptly exploded in a mass of green flesh and green blood.

I allowed myself a smug smile. Scum suckin' bastard. Who cares if it was already dead? When one has been fighting Orks as long as I have, he can always find the satisfaction of blowing one apart.

Oh and it also proved the laspistol was still in good condition.

I grinned at my newly acquired prize.

"I can tell that you and I are going to go places" I chuckled.

I then turned and picked up another weapon. This time, it was a boltgun made from the obvious craftsmanship of an Ork.

And in the terms of craftsmanship, it looked like a whole lot of metal pieces all rammed together in a haphazard fashion.

My mouth screwed into a shape of disgust. He never really liked handling Ork weapons. They were of shoddy construct and were the type of thing that would fall apart as soon as look at them. Worse still, the idea of handling the tools of the devil bothered me at no end.

Just then, a sinister smile made its way across my face. I just had a great idea….

I then began pulling at the weapon, trying to dislodge on of the crudely placed pieces of metal. Even if the Orks are haphazard with the construction of their weapons, they certainly ram the various components together in a solid manner.

I suppose, it helps them from falling to pieces….

Eventually, I'd managed to rip off an important component. I then dropped this component to the ground and brought my boot down upon it.

I grinned in evil satisfaction. Should any Orks come across that weapon, they would be for a surprise….

It was just a shame that I won't be around when that happens….

I then shrugged and continued picking my way through the remnants of the battlefield.

But the further I went, the more I realised that there wasn't really a lot on offer here within these blasted corpses. There weren't a lot of stinking Ork corpses and even they dreadfully outnumbered the amount of dead humans.

This was an interesting occurrence.

I then cast a quizzical gaze up at the pod. It didn't seem like a very large capsule: And this it seemed hardly the type of thing that could accommodate a large number of people.

But if a thing this size hit the surface of this planet, it certainly would've created a sight and roar so tremendous that anyone for miles would have seen it.

And that sense, the number of Orks attacking should've been much bigger than the number of green corpses that were strewn everywhere. Knowing how many of the scum-sucking greenskins that were stuck on this rock, wouldn't much more of them had come?

I raised my hand to my chin and tapped my cheek with my finger as I tried to piece together an explanation as to what happened here.

My guess was that the handful of humans came from an Imperial ship. The ship must've run into some sort of trouble that was so drastic that it prompted the humans to escape. And from there, the pod found its way to here.

From there the pod would have, inevitably, been discovered by the Orks. Thus, the humans would have found themselves fighting for their lives. But from the looks of it, they only encountered a small group of them. However even that was enough to bring them all down.

Poor bastards…..

Still, the humans certainly put a tremendous fight: The amount of Orks killed was impressive and, from the looks of it, they managed to defeat them all before those greedy, thieving green hands could lay a finger on the pod: It didn't show a sign of being plundered or ruined in anyway.

Quite an impressive effort.

But as to how long the pod's journey had taken, there was no proof. The pod didn't seem to show any signs of large damage so it was impossible to tell how far it had come. For all I know, it could've come from the other side of the galaxy, let alone the orbit of this planet.

Meaning the idea that there was an Imperial spaceship approaching this planet seemed rather overly-hopeful.

So much for the hope of being rescued from this accursed rock.

But what I found confusing with this assessment was that the number of Orks were surprising small.

I then looked past the pod to the amount of rock and dirt it had scooped up on the way here. If had something like the pod had hit the planet with such a force, it surely would've attracted more Orks than the small group that attacked it.

A likely explanation was that some Orks would've already run off to tell their friends. Or maybe a part of the small group went back for some help to defeat the humans.

But the disturbing thing about these ideas was they involved the concept that more Orks were heading this way.

Meaning, I had better work quickly in order to salvage something here.

My keen eyes then returned to the battlefield, looking for something that was worth picking up.

Judging from the debris of the battlefield, the humans certainly appeared to have been well prepared: There were various lasgun power pellets, scorch marks and signs of large explosions that could only have come from a frag grenade.

My eyes hardened. Lasgun? Flamer? Grenades? Damn, this was sounding very promising…

I just hope that I can find them. And they still work. …..

I quickly returned to the corpses, my eyes scanning throughout them, trying to find these highly-treasured items. If I could find these, my life fighting this guerrilla war may become a little easier….

My search took me from one end of the battlefield to the other, my eyes burning with vigilance intent, trying to find one of these worthy pieces of equipment, no matter how deeply within this battlefield they lay.

Eventually I found exactly what I was looking for.

There, several feet away from where I stood, lay one of the human corpses. And in his dead hands was a flamer.

I grinned eagerly. Jackpot….

I marched over to the corpse and slowly picked at the dead man's fingers, trying to pry his weapon from him. It wasn't the easiest of tasks, because the fingers were clutching the weapon incredibly tightly.

I frowned. Well, this guy certainly didn't want to let go of his weapon. Therefore, it was obvious that at the time of his death, he was fighting with the determination of a madman. He must have been surrounded by so many of those stinking greeenskins but, from the looks of it, he didn't seem at all prepared to give any quarter to the Orks.

I raised my hand in salute to the dead soldier. Such determination against facing those scum-sucking Orks is admirable.

Well, in my book at least.

"Rest in Peace buddy" I muttered. "Rest assured that your efforts aren't going unnoticed.

"Besides" I added. "I may have a use for your flamer!"

And with a greedy glint in my eye, I reached down and returned in trying to retrieve the weapon from the cold hands.

But it was easier said than done: The dead man still didn't want let go of his beloved flamer. Even in death, he certainly didn't want let go of the one thing that had stuck by him even in his dying moments.

"Listen buddy" I grumbled. "I know you've been fighting a hard battle but believe you me, you won't be needing this anymore!"

The man, naturally, didn't reply.

Eventually, after some effort, I succeeded. I pulled away flamer from the man's cold hands gripped it in my own two hands. I then stood up and raised this newly-acquired weapon to examine it.

The thing certainly looked battered: There were scorch marks running up and down the barrel, and the casing was missing more than a few chunks out of it. The stink of flamer petrol was strong and the weapon still seemed quite warm to touch. All of which were obvious signs that this weapon was used to its full extent by it's gunner even as death loomed.

But, at the same time, there seemed to be an aura of beauty in the weapon: Its metal body still glistened in the dying natural light; its nozzle was criss-crossed with familiar brown marks and the casing, despite the scratches that scarred it, still looked up it could withstand the impact of a Hellhound tank.

And, more importantly of all, it still bore the stench of battle. It reeked with a mixture of blood, charcoal in amongst the petrol. Ah, there's nothing quite like that familiar stench: In the world of a scavenger, it was a sign that this weapon had done a good service and was just a capable of doing even more. And in the case of this flamer, it was a machine that has sent many to their deaths and was could easily send a few more to their doom.

However the burning question was did it still work?

I noted the amount of liquid that was still in the tank: It seemed half empty and certainly up for a few more battles.

I shrugged and gripped this tremendous weapon. Aiming the gun within a mass of empty space before me, I store down the barrel and pulled the trigger.

A terrific column of flame burst out before me. It penetrated the airspace before me with a tremendous mass of orange and red.

I released the trigger and the column vanished. I then allowed myself a small grin of satisfaction. A flamer has found it's way to this miserable rock! And it still works! About damn time, I got a lucky break…..

I then continued wandering through the many corpses that made up the battlefield.

I had only gone a small way across the bloodied field when I come across something of interest: Another one of the humans was clutching a laspistol in a death grip.

I paused. Unfortunately, for me, the majority of items that were left on this battlefield were all Ork firearms and magazines. And considering that myself and my fellow deserters were involved in a never-ending guerrilla war with the Orks, it was paramount that we recover any weapons that we come across.

But exactly where the weapons came from didn't really matter.

And in that sense, some of my companions would quite readily use the Ork boltguns. Sure, they were a technology that was completely alien to us and hardly the most reliable thing in the world but they were plentiful and perhaps the best source of weaponry on the planet (One can't rely on a pod landing here everyday).

Personally, I would rather die than use a weapon made and manufactured by those scum-sucking greenskins. It may not be much of a concern to my companions as to where the weapons came from but it is to me. Relying on the weapons that were used my constant enemy is like making an Imperial Space Marine making a deal with one of the Chaos Gods and consequently being inducted into the ranks of the Dark Legions.

Besides, I have, after all, been on this planet long enough to know better.

I knelt down, placed my newly-acquired flamer to one side and proceeded to pry the laspistol from the dead man's fingers.

When suddenly, a huge green paw slammed down upon my hand.

My blood ran cold.

I slowly looked to my left…

…and was confronted with the ugliest face I had seen since looking in the mirror this morning. The face glared at me with murderous red eyes and protruded its massive array of teeth in threatening fashion.

"SHIT!" I roared in both alarm and disgust. The Ork replied with a roar of defiance.

Thinking quickly, I used my other free hand to deliver a punch – straight into the Orks face!

The accursed greenskin howled in pain and let go of my hand. This, in turn gave me the time and space to scurry out of his reach.

The Ork blinked and growled in annoyed fashion as I got to my feet.

The greenskin didn't move. And how could he? His legs were in a rotten shape, caked with both blood and dirt. Obviously, they had been blown apart by one of the grenades and his days of walking were well and truly over.

I grinned evilly. Helpless and unable to go anywhere fast – just the way I like 'em!

I drew my two trusty bolt pistols and with unabashed glee, I raised them both in front of me.

The Ork blinked at me staring at him down the barrel(s) of two well used pistols - before he let out a roar of defiance.

"Same to you, you bastard" I shot back, as I pulled both triggers.

Seconds later, the Ork's head exploded. His green flesh was torn apart by the force of the bolt shells being fired from the two pistols. Once they penetrated the skin, the shells found their way into the greenskin's brain wormed their way in. This then tore the head apart and created a small explosion. The flesh and brain then flew from the skull at an incredible rate, thus creating a small rain of green blood and green flesh.

I sighed as my gaze returned to the Ork: His head was gone – In it's place was a deformed skull that dripped with a mass of green blood and flesh. But in spite of the mess, the skull still leered at me.

The only good Ork is a dead one…..

Just then, I heard the noise of running feet approaching.

I looked up to see Xerxes hurrying over.

"I heard shouting" he said. "Is everything all right?"

"Nothing too serious" I replied. "Just managed to find a survivor"

I gestured towards the newly-created corpse – to which Xerxes screwed his face in disgust.

"Oh my" he said, as he nodded to my twin smoking bolt pistols. "You certainly made a mess out of him eh?"

"Yeah" I grinned as I slipped my two guns back into their holsters. "And believe you me, I enjoyed every minute if it!"

Xerxes sighed.

"You certainly have a way of doing things don't you?"

"It gets the job done"

"So" I went on. "Did you find anything interesting in that pod?"

"Not really" he replied. "All the radio equipment there is practically ruined. And any emergency firearms had already been removed by the crew"

"Damn" I muttered.

I then turned my back on my comrade and crouched down.

"Obviously a fair portion of the equipment must have been destroyed when this pod crash-landed" Xerxes mused. "And it's possible the Orks may have plundered the pod before we got to it"

"Did you have any luck finding anything?"

"Sure did" I replied. I then picked up the flamer and raised it over my shoulder so he could see it.

Looking at Xerxes, he certainly seemed impressed with this discovery. He blinked in disbelief.

"Is that what I think it is?" he said, his voice a mixture of awe and astonishment. "Give me a look!"

I grinned an evil grin.

"Whatever you say, pal!"

To which I _threw_ the flamer off into his general direction.

Naturally, Xerxes' face grew into one of utter alarm. Fortunately for both of us however, he did catch it before it went off.

He then fixed me with an angry glare.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he yelled. "You don't handle a weapon like that! Particularly one that operates on easily flammable chemicals!"

I didn't reply. Instead I laughed a smug laugh.

But this didn't make Xerxes feel any better: Instead he just carried on with his ranting:

"I don't find anything funny about this! What would've happen if I didn't catch this?"

"Well you did, didn't you?"

"But what would've happened had I didn't?" he shouted.

"Well then" I said, as I got to my feet and turned to face him. "I guess we would've been blown sky high, right?"

Xerxes shook his head.

"One day" he said sternly. "Your bravado attitude is going to get us killed!"

"Why should you care?" I snapped back. "You are, after all, a rogue trader."

Sensing the sarcastic tone of my voice, Xerxes paused. But it didn't take long before his facial expression grew angry.

"I wouldn't push it if I were you" he snapped.

"Why not?" I retorted. "I thought all rogue trader captains were as bravado as they come"

Xerxes sighed a defeated sigh.

"This is ridiculous" he said. "We shouldn't be arguing at a time like this. In case we should be moving"

"But…."

"The longer we stay here, the more we run the risk of attracting the attentions of some Orks!"

"Let them" I shot back. "If they want to fight me, I'm ready for them all!"

The 'rogue trader' didn't reply. Instead he just folded his arms and fixed me within a hard look.

I blinked at him before sighing. Now it was my turn to be defeated

"Sorry" I said.

"We've got what we came for" Xerxes said firmly. "Now is the time to get out of here."

And with that, he turned around and headed off, carrying the flamer in both hands.

I shrugged and followed after him.

"I don't know why we should bother" I called. "After all, we have all the time in the world."


	2. Scavengers

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Two

And so myself and Xerxes marched away from the battlefield. With such a battlefield of such size and wreckage it would be obvious to think that more Orks will be on their way.

No doubt sharing the same thoughts of us as looting as much as possible.

Only with the Orks, it's not so much looting as pillaging.

Of course, conducting raids is really just another day in the life for Xerxes and myself. As such, we've been doing it for so long that we've developed our own plans when doing so: We move in as a quickly possible and we leave as quickly as possible. We find whatever we can, we determine which could be useful to our cause and we get the hell out before we're discovered.

It takes daring to pull off such a feat and it must take damn good cause to keep doing this.

And I can't think of a better cause than the need for survival.

For both Xerxes and I are the only humans situated on this forsaken hell-hole of a planet. And this world happens to be inhabited by those scum-sucking bastards of the galaxy: Those greenskins known as the Orks

This planet is one of many untouched by the Imperium. It is situated somewhere beyond the fringes of Imperial space. No one knows we are here.

But then again, who cares?

After all, we are criminals. I'm a deserter and he is fleeing from the prospect of financial ruin. We are both scum of the Imperium who are trapped on this wretched planet. And being trapped on such a dangerous planet, we don't have much hope of survival.

How fitting a predicament…..

Each day it is the same: My doomed companion and I continually battle against the seemingly endless mass of Orks who inhabit this planet. Off course it would be suicide to go up against them directly, so we are reduced to fighting a guerrilla war against small groups. Along the way, we have to scavenge in the name of survival.

We use whatever firearms and ammo we can find. Most of it is stolen from the Orks but in some rare cases, a wreck can turn up on this rock, already for plundering (provided the Orks don't find it first).

We eat whatever food we can find – using what we can find. Thus, during the time spent on this planet, we have consumed various plant life, some strange beasts that appear native to this planet and even some oddly coloured fruit (well it _looked_ like fruit). We don't care what we eat, or how much an effect it has on our system: Just as long as it's edible. Of course chances are, I've consumed enough poison to last a regular human several lifetimes.

But no matter, all we're doing here is delaying the inevitable cold touch of death….

Why, even if the Imperium comes by, we're still no better off. What haven does the Imperium offer to a bunch of deserters? Chances are we'll be left to die this stinking rock. Or worse still, taken away to proper detainment or possibly even an execution

A pair of misfits trapped on a world dominated by those scum-sucking greenskins. It makes you wonder who in this universe would really care……

Xerxes keeps telling me he was a rogue trader. A captain of a mighty trading vessel that travelled from one end of the galaxy to the other, doing many dealings with the countless worlds that made up Imperial space. However, success went to his head and he lowered his guard – an act which gave his mutinous crew the chance they were looking for. Thus, Xerxes was ejected from his ship in an escape capsule and, somehow, found himself on this planet. .

But to be honest, I don't believe a word he says. There is something about him that tells me he isn't the trustworthy type. He claims the clothes he now wears was the uniform he wore during his captaincy but they look like the standard issue uniform of any Imperial officer. He says he is determined to leave this planet and return to make a living as a rogue trader – to which I wish him luck.

He even says he once traded with the Eldar – but who in their right mind would believe that nonsense?

Anyway, being trapped on a world infested by the greenskins doesn't sound like the most ideal situation in the universe. But, myself and my companions still manage to elk out a method of survival that lasted day after day.

However, just how long this way of life will continue to ensure our state of being alive is questionable.

But that's something we don't talk about…..

"I say old chap" Xerxes said cheerily "How about we take a look at our loot then?"

I paused.

We were both partway up a large slope. Down below, we could see, quite clearly, the wreckage and the clearing we'd just come from. So far there was no sign of any Orks but it was fairly safe to say that we were a fair distance away.

All seemed quiet and the all-too familiar stench of the Orks seemed quite weak.

"I do believe we've gone far enough" I said.

"Grand" the Rogue Trade replied, grinning.

I sighed in exasperation. For someone who is standard on an Ork World with no hope of survival, no future anywhere else and who must continually stay on his toes in an effort to stay alive, Xerxes is certainly cheerful.

And by the Emperor it gets on my nerves…..

For the time being however, we halted. We took a break form our fleeing to take the time to catch our breath and to admire the spoils of our latest scavenging escapade.

I looked up at the Rogue Trader. For the moment he was busy gazing over the greatest acquisition in this latest raid: the flamer. He was examining it for any rust points, burst tubing, fuel leakages and sight capabilities.

Don't know why he bothered: On this planet any weapon found was a good weapon. Anything that couldn't be fired just ended up being used as a bludgeon. If it worked then that was an added bonus.

Of course, we never used any Ork weapons. Not under any circumstances whatsoever. Sure we stole their weapons but that was only to steal the ammunition and then dismantle the weapon so we can then use the metal for other purposes.

No, something about using the weapons of the enemies we're constantly fighting day in day out didn't really create a reassuring thought on the mind.

It didn't matter if any weapon blew up on any of us. After all, it's not that this planet had anything to offer us at all.

Or the rest of the Universe for that matter.

I shrugged and began going through the gear I had picked up.

It certainly was an impressive bounty that I'd managed to pick up: Most of it came in the form of Imperial handguns, Laspistols, Bolt Pistols, but there was also several ammunition clips and grenades thrown in as well.

This was certainly a satisfying: There seemed to be a sense of purity in using human made ammunition in human made weapons. The thought of using converted Ork ammunition, whilst capable of getting the job done, didn't sit entirely easily in my mind.

No, give me good old human manufacturing any day – it has never let me down.

Nor do I see it doing so in the near future.

The grenades were certainly a rare, and indeed welcome, find. I had a considerable knowledge in the field of weaponry so since arriving here, I was able to build a series of explosives using whatever scraps of metal I could find as well as pieces of the many Ork weaponry taken from the many green-skins I had killed. Of course, they were terribly effective in killing of large groups of Orks but such explosives weren't the must reliable devices in the world: Some couldn't detonate upon impact, some actually fizzled out and died whilst others went off but didn't really end up killing their target out right. Still in the few times they worked, they did so brilliantly.

So it certainly was a refreshing change to have some genuine, reliable, Mars-manufactured, kill-anything-dumb-enough-to-come-within-fifty-feet, grenades.

Yep, these little babies will certainly be going places…..

Likewise, the pistols were a welcome addition but their discovery left something of a bitter taste in the mouth. In the pod crash, there were some far better weapons in the form of lasguns, autoguns, even the odd boltgun. In this game of scavenging, it was paramount that we act quickly: we had to find anything that came across as useful or interesting, determine whether it could a key addition to our cause and leg it as quickly as possible. Of course, such factors that went into the decision was whether the item was recognisable, of which alien technology went into its manufacture (we trust only human-made items purely because, well, we were all humans), and its size and weight. The last criterion was of particular importance: As we were always on the move and needed to be constantly prepared for a quick getaway, we didn't want to be weighed down with heavy weapons. As such we could take items that were small, light and could be carried around easily.

Such was the effectiveness of this policy that we were able to survive for this long in this eternally-hostile environment. But there were times when the policy let us down.

And this was one of them.

That crashed pod offered a wealth of great Imperial-made weaponry. Some of which would be far more effective in the art of Ork-slaying then the weaponry we had now. But we couldn't take it all, save for a small fraction. Thus, the majority of the weapons left behind were now left to the mercy of the Orks.

We couldn't go back and retrieve the abandoned weaponry. The only left for such weaponry now would be to be torn apart by the scum-suckin' green-skins.

What was worse was that arrival of the Escape Pod was an event that should have been exploited to its full extent: Having been stranded on this planet long enough to develop a sustainable way of life, I can safely say that the arrival of an escape pod like that was of something of a rare occurrence.

No scratch that – _any_ escape pod is a rare occurrence, let alone one of Imperial make.

So what did we do? We gave up on the gathering up the best weaponry we will ever get in the space of time equivalent to at least twenty years!

Oh well, it's not like that weaponry would make a difference.

Most likely it'll only delay, however greatly, the inevitable…

Still I can't complain too much – at least what I picked up was of some use.

I then looked up to see what my 'companion' had managed to find.

He was still examining the flamer with a very careful eye. Of course, being interested only the flamer also meant he hadn't touched the other gear he had gathered up. As far as I knew, Xerxes had gathered something else along with the flamer but what exactly was it?

No idea what he intended to do with that flamer. In fact, I didn't see exactly what purpose a flame-based weapon held on this miserable rock. As any flamer ran on a specialised form of ammunition, as opposed to the material we appropriated from the Orks that we'd been using, it seemed doubtful as to whether it will have a long and useful lifespan here.

Still it would be fun to use – and considering that a weapon like this is rare find, it would certainly be a waste to scrap it. And if it truly has a limited lifespan, then we may as well use it until the fire in it runs out (bad analogy I know but hey, I'm stranded on a rock far beyond the borders the Imperium. I can do whatever I like).

After all, there was always the ever-appealing thought of engaging in the art of pyromania. What was also certainly pleasing was the thought of seeing one of those scum-suckin' green-skins go up in flames.

Yeah, feel the purifying flame of the Emperor's vengeance….

I shook my head. No I must stop thinking things like that….

My attention then turned back to Xerxes. I cleared my throat.

"Do you think it still works?"

The Rogue Trader didn't turn to look at me. Instead he kept his gaze aimed squarely down the barrel.

"It's possible" he murmured "I certainly can see this weapon being of some use"

"Funny" I said "I can see it being of a lot of use"

"But I wouldn't want to be one to try it out"

I got to my feet and strode over to the Rogue Trader. Then, without warning, I snatched the Flamer off him. Xerxes blinked in astonishment as I took aim, my sights settling for a nearby tree. The Rogue Trader opened his mouth but before he could issue a singly word of protest or alarm, I pulled the trigger.

Immediately, a jet of brilliant flame burst from the Flamer's nozzle. It scorched its way through the air before slamming its way into the tree. Within seconds, the tree lit up with flame – flame that burned an unstoppable path across the trunk and across the branches, sending everything into a mass of yellow and orange.

As the tree burned, I turned to Xerxes.

"It works" I said firmly.

And with that I turned away and walked off. I headed back towards my gear, hoisted it up and over my shoulder and proceeded into the jungle.

I had only gone a little way before I heard the running feet come up behind me.

"Wait up!"

I stopped walking but I didn't bother turning around.

"What the hell were you thinking back there?!" came a voice that only come from Xerxes.

"What are you talking about?"

"Lighting up a tree like that. You want the Orks to try and find us?!"

"Hell why not?" I snapped, turning around "I will gladly bring each and every Ork here on this miserable rock right over here just for the sheer pleasure of blowing them away!"

Xerxes looked stunned. Seems he wasn't expecting such a reaction.

But it didn't take him long before his expression grew angry again.

"That doesn't explain why you have lasted this long without throwing your life away!" he shot back

I shrugged.

"When I decide to die"" I said firmly "It will be fighting a massive horde of Orks. It won't be from any disease or upon any executioner's block. It will be in battle, the only true way to go out. And will be taking as many of these scum-suckin' green-sins with me."

"You don't care whether you live or die do you?"

"The way I see it, there's nothing for me up there" I replied "Nor is anything down here"

"Well say what you want" Xerxes grinned "At least I have the eternal belief there is something for me beyond this planet!"

I turned away.

"Whatever you believe"

And with that I turned and headed off.

After a slight pause I heard the sound of the Rogue Trader's feet came after me.

"So what did you find in that wreck?" I asked.

"Oh just some grenades and some decent ammo" he replied.

"You don't say….."

"Well then" I said. "Perhaps it's time we put such gear to good use, now eh?"

* * *

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	3. Ambush

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Three

The day was coming to an end. Already the sun was well on it's way into setting, thus casting various streaks of red and orange across the evening sky. Already, the various bird calls the filtered through the jungle on a daily basis were coming to an end and silence began creeping its way across the jungle.

That was, until the jungle was rocked with an enormous explosion. This was followed soon after a cacophony of loud bestial roars and the sound of boltgun ammunition being fired in a random fashion.

This was an Ork world. And since when has such a thing as silence ever existed on an Ork World?

A group of the scum-suckin' greenskins were making their way through the jungle in typical Ork fashion: As loudly as possible and destroying anything in their path with a burst of boltgun fire and numerous explosions.

As with the Orks, subtly wasn't in their realm of understanding.

But for us humans, such a concept was.

The all-too orkish tactics of advancing in an incoherent fashion, with minds concentrated solely on being as raucous as possible, gave both myself and Xerxes suitable enough time and space to trail them.

As the Orks, all seven of them, blundered their way through the jungle, both myself and the Rogue Trader made our stealthy way through the foliage. We both took care to make as little noise as possible and trailed the green-skins with the most precise of movements that didn't make any betrayal whatsoever of our presence..

This was a typical plan of ours: fashioned after spending so long on this miserable rock and embodied in the name of survival.

Most of the time we would follow a default plan: We will shadow some Orks only to eventually launch an ambush. Of course, such a strike involved striking with rapid speed and getting the green-skins when they least expected it.

It was a bold plan but there were three reasons why it worked. One, the Orks not knowing of any humans being on the planet gives us a tremendously enormous element of surprise; Two, both Xerxes and myself had speed on our side as no amount of Orkish brute force can overcome pure human cunning; and three, when it came to formulating ambushes and combat strategies, we had all the time in the world to perfect them.

Other times, we would approach the green-skins and silently take them out one by one. More often that not, this would lead to the green-skins suspect each other of treachery and then tear themselves apart in the name of vengeance.

This was my favoured plan. Dammit, there was always something sweetly satisfying about watching the Orks getting stuck into each other.

That and the fact it made our task of killing them all significantly easier.

But when you consider the fact that the Orks move through this jungle by making as much racket as possible, it makes one wonder why we even bothered to utilise stealth tactics. It wasn't like they were going to notice us in amongst all the noise they were making.

It was even doubtful that they were far too preoccupied with making a ruckus that they wouldn't even notice one of their comrades dropping off.

At this thought I smiled. That doesn't sound like a half bad idea……

I looked over at Xerxes. He was concealed within the foliage, lasgun at the ready.

I motioned to him, signalling him to take one down.

Nodding, the Rogue Trader lifted his lasgun and fired.

When continually relying on stealth operations within a hostile environment such as this one, we made the most careful and intricate preparations before making one step into any conflict. And in this case, we utilised silencer for all our weapons. They weren't the highest quality products that may have been manufactured from the Imperium nor were they remnants from some alien technology. No, they were the product of some very pitiful pieces of gear - scraps of steel and some cloth!

Hey, if they could be made by amateurs some forty thousand years ago with the most limited of resources then anyone could make them.

Anyway, the lasgun bolt struck the nearest Ork in the back. Immediately, green blood started oozing out from his flesh. The green-skin immediately halted his stride, looked towards the sky in a dazed fashion, lowered both his boltgun and his axe and promptly fell over backwards.

I paused, daring not to breathe.

One down, six to go.

But the next phase of our plan is all dependent on what happens next. How will the surviving Orks react?

Amazingly, the rest seemed to carry on, roaring, firing their crude bolters and not showing one single indication of being aware of their fallen comrade.

I smiled to myself. Just as I predicated.

But then again, considering how preoccupied they were I doubt they would've noticed if they were being followed by a Space Marine dreadnought.

Let alone two desperate renegades intent solely on survival.

With silenced weapons.

Remind me again: Why were we using silencers anyway?

Oh who cares: We've started this task so we may as well get on with it.

The Orks continued on their way, deeper into the jungle. Xerxes and myself followed, several metres behind. We cleared the corpse of the freshly killed Ork and trailed them for a short while. And then, I prepared to take down the next one.

Whilst we planned to take the Orks one at a time, without them every noticing, we still had to move quickly before anyone realised that some of their comrades were missing.

Of course such a prospect seemed unlikely with these scum-suckers of destructive intent but you can't take any chances.

Especially not in this game of survival.

I cast a glance at Xerxes. He was watching the Orks intently, his mouth silent and his senses seemingly alert and ever-ready.

There was one other reason why I really enjoyed this plan: It was one where the Rogue Trader kept his mouth shut.

Praise the Emperor…..

My weapons of choice took the form of a pair of bolt pistols. In combat I used one in each hand. It was useful in close combat situations but it was particularly great to use both to mow down a whole horde of green-skins. You could take down several within a matter of seconds as nothing (on this planet at least) could withstand the shell from one of these little babies.

And it was one of these bolt pistols that I carefully lifted from out of cover. I held the barrel close to my eye, ready to slug one of the sum-suckin' green-skins. Already they were moving further into the jungle and away from sight, but I had one framed firmly in my sights. He was the last one in the group formation.

Piece of cake.

"See you in hell" I murmured.

I squeezed the trigger. No sound followed but, within the space of several seconds, the Ork's head exploded. In the blink of an eye, the green-skin's skull shattered outwards, sending green flesh, scraps of bone and pieces of brain everywhere.

I blinked at this. Orks had brains? I never would've guessed.

But suddenly, things took a nasty turn.

It was then I realised something: Such was the force of the exploding Ork head that surely they would notice!

And such fears were conformed: As the body of the now headless Ork toppled over backwards, the green-skins nearest to him suddenly turned around.

No doubt prompted by the exploding head - But then again, it's not like anyone would ever miss such a thing.

The Ork glared at his fallen comrade and growled. Then he paused, sniffing the air.

I stiffened. This wasn't looking too good….

Casting a quick gaze, I saw the Rogue Trader also looked apprehensive. This situation wasn't turning out to be very promising and action, no matter how drastic, may need to be taken.

The Ork sniffing the air issued a loud growl to his comrades. A growl that had the power to stop them all in their tracks and turn their attention to him.

The sniffer Ork snarled some indistinguishable noises to the others. It seemed that he was telling his friends that he had just picked up something unexpected.

That something being two humans who really weren't meant to be there……

The other Orks exchanged some guttural growling, as if in contention with the sniffer Ork's claims.

I could feel my trigger finger growing itchy: I didn't really like the idea of the Orks finding out about our presence on this planet, right under their noses. It was our one greatest advantage in this game of survival.

And it would be best if it were kept that way.

At the moment, the Orks were exchanging growls, seemingly in debate over this odd discovery.

I felt my hands growing with sweat. Something needs to happen – each passing second that Xerxes and I remain under cover merely increases the risk of us being discovered.

I cast a gaze at the Rogue Trader. The expression on his face was wrought with lines of tension; his eyes were growing desperate and apprehensive and his teeth with ground together. All of which suggesting that he felt the horrible sense of razor-sharp strain within this situation.

And the weight of acting urgently grew…

Suddenly, one of the Orks began sniffing the air. Within seconds, he began roaring in disapproval.

Seems our discoverer has found himself a supporter.

The remaining green-skins stared at him in a curious manner (or whatever you want to call it) but it didn't take them long to follow suit: Within the space of several brief moments, the rest of the Orks were pausing to sniff the air. And it didn't take long afterwards before they were roaring with anger, all arriving to the single conclusion.

I ground my teeth

Busted.

Immediately, the Orks began looking around, trying to find any likely hiding space that any human might use. One started attacking some undergrowth with his axe. Another fired some boltgun shells into the trees.

Oh well, if they are after a human then I may as well cease keeping them waiting

My grip around my bolt-pistols tightened.

Normally, Xerxes and myself will follow any plan we make up to the letter. We take any movement exactly as it was planned without making any sudden changes or abrupt decisions in the middle of combat.

But in this case it was different.

To hell with what that Rogue Trader thinks.

I leapt out of cover. In the space of a second, I was on my feet and had my twin bolt pistols trained on the scum-sucking greenskins.

They all looked in my direction. Their faces seemed shocked (or whatever you want to call it on an Ork's face) – obviously they hadn't expected to see a human on this planet, let alone one having them all at gunpoint.

"Looking for me?" I grinned.

Without waiting for a reply, I let them have it. I squeezed both triggers.

Instantaneously, the mouth of the nearest Ork was shattered open, sending teeth and green blood in all directions. The one next to him copped a shell in the stomach, the metal tearing into his flesh with relentless precision.

I could hear a voice coming from behind me – no doubt it was Xerxes' but I couldn't exactly pick up what he was saying over the mayhem playing out before me.

Nor did I care.

One of the Orks charged towards me, his mouth wide open in a roar of bloodlust and his crude axe ready for action.

I merely answered to such a challenge by firing both pistols at him.

Needless to say, having multiple shells slamming into his bare chest was enough to put an end to any delusions the Ork may have of pulling me apart limb for limb. Likewise, the force of being shot by a pair of twin bolt pistols was also enough to send the green-skin off his feet and flat into his back.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye I noticed one of the remaining Orks take aim with his bolt gun.

I quickly dived out of the way. As I did so, I kept my gaze on him whilst keeping one of my pistols raised and ready to kill him first.

But the opportunity never came.

Instead, came the sound of a lasgun being fired. Seconds later, the Ork with the boltgun, toppled forward, his green flesh already streaked with blood from numerous freshly created wounds.

I looked up to see Xerxes emerge from cover, his lasgun smoking. He looked at me and frowned.

"Fine mess you've created there" he muttered.

"Just shut and keep firing!" I snapped back.

The sudden appearance of the Rogue Trader consequently gave the remaining Orks enough time to recover from the unexpected sight of seeing humans in their midst.

Now, they were readying their weapons in anticipation for the combat to come, one sharpening his axe whilst the other took aim with his boltguns.

But I had no fear: The way I saw it, if they charged they'll get shot to ribbons. And the boltguns were hardly a worry as the green-skins are the type of gunners who couldn't shoot an Eldar Wave Serpent at fifteen paces.

"Let me show you how to use that thing!" I yelled.

Got no idea why I keep saying dumb things like that in situations like these, but hey, who would care when you're standard on a planet far from the fatherland that is the Imperium.

It's not like anyone's going to hear you.

Anyway, I immediately took aim with the nearest Ork, one whom clutched his crude axe with a passion that could only come from an eagerness to spill blood.

He glared at me and thrust his axe forward, in a gesture of challenge.

I responded by firing both my pistols into his skull.

Two shells slammed into the green-skin's cranium, triggering the crunch of bone being shattered. The Ork fell down in a pool of green blood, joining his comrades.

Xerxes meanwhile fired his lasgun at the remaining Ork. The green-skin clutched his boltgun, looking ready to fire and showing no fear of being confronted with a lasgun.

I had no idea why.

The Rogue Trader merely cut him down in a hail of bolts before the Ork had chance to fire.

And I had no idea why he didn't when he did.

But then again in this game of survival, it's either them or you.

And at least Xerxes provided evidence in the notion that any human-made weapon can beat any crude Ork construct any day.

All hail the Imperium of Man…..

I looked around my feet. There, lay the freshly cold bodies of seven Orks. All killed by two desperate men.

Yes, all hail the Imperium of Man…..

I looked over the bodies; there wasn't much there which we could scavenge from. The axes looked both far too crude and unwieldy to be of any use. Likewise, the boltguns were fashioned in a way that was far too alien for our comprehension.

As well as far too crude when compared to our Imperial made weapons.

Oh well, at least we survived this conflict to see another day.

You know, when I was in the Imperial Guard, I was always relieved upon emerging from a conflict alive and well. But now, such relief is nonexistent.

It's not like I have anything much to live for now…..

I looked over at Xerxes. His face showed signs of relief.

At least he seemed delighted to survive.

Unfortunately for me however, it means I have to suffer him for even longer.

Such is fate….

Just then, the Rogue Trader caught sight of me. His smile then vanished and his facial expression grew stern.

Well – it _seemed_ to look stern. It's just with Xerxes, that facial expression looked laughably pathetic.

"What did you do just then?" he demanded "Jumping out in front of the Orks like that!"

I shrugged.

"They were looking for a human. Didn't want to disappoint them now, right?"

"You put us both in danger!" Xerxes snapped.

"Correction" I countered "I put you in danger"

Upon saying that, it kinda made me wish that I put him in even more danger. That way, he would've been out of my hair quicker than an Eldar Warp Spider.

"But…"

"I killed them all didn't I?" I said "Be grateful that I did"

"But you revealed yourself when we're trying to maintain an anonymous presence!"

"Who cares?" I countered "That was probably the last thing they ended up seeing"

"Such recklessness will get you killed!"

"So what?! It's not like anyone is going to miss me!"

This was enough the shut the Rogue Trader up. Immediately, his facial expression softened and his eyes widened. He took a step backwards and his mouth shut – all signs that he couldn't come up with a comeback neither witty nor smart enough to say to me.

Just the way I liked it…..

Satisfied with this victory, I turned around and began walking away from both the Rogue Trader and the battlefield.

"Oh well, at least we survived this conflict to see another day" I said over my shoulder.

Although I couldn't see him, I could sense the Rogue Trader blinking at me before eventually nodding his consent.

"You're right" he grinned.

"For whatever good that is" I growled.


	4. Memories

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Four

The sun had descended from its position in the sky, thus casting the entire planet within a blanket of darkness and pulling out an accompanying sky of stars.

The day on this planet had come to an end.

Now it was night time.

The best time for the day for myself and the Rogue Trader.

As we were always on the move and constantly relying on stealth and cover in order to not draw attention to ourselves, night time was really the most effective time to cover lot's of ground and launch an ambush.

But the day had been a busy one, with plundering an escape pod and attacking a group of Orks. As such, neither Xerxes nor myself were prepared, or in the mood, to launch some kind of attack.

To be honest, we were both interested in getting some shut eye.

You would think that we wouldn't bother with taking a rest considering we were in eternally hostile territory and lying down and sleeping would run the risk of being discovered by the Orks during the night

But we took comfort in the knowledge that the green-skins were like any other race in this universe and had to go to sleep at some point.

It seemed impossible when one considers that the Orks are a race but it seemed to work.

The proof being in the form that we able to wake up each and every day still alive.

Either Xerxes and myself had managed to conceal ourselves rather cleverly or the Orks just didn't seem to locate us.

Of course, the latter is most likely attributed to luck.

But I have little faith in luck. As far as I was concerned, bad luck was something I had no shortage of. How else did I arrive here?!

Furthermore, I refuse to believe that anyone like me could survive for this long in these hellish conditions under such an influence.

Anyway, when it came to sleeping, Xerxes and myself decided that any location to do so should be in a spot where the Orks won't think of looking. As such, we usually looked for the highest tree we could find and nestled on the strongest boroughs we could find.

Separately of course – The idea of being in close proximately of that moron was disgusting enough for me.

We took particular care not to look obvious, naturally, the darkness of night was essential in this, and leave no indication of us being there.

So far, such care had proven rather successful.

And so, I nestled down within the borough of the tree, my coat being used as a pillow and my weapons kept within easy reach.

And so I went to sleep. And into dreams.

But the thought that I was pretty much stranded on this planet for all eternity, didn't really make for an easy time for dreams.

As such, my sleep was troubled with nightmares.

Nightmares that ranged from those scum-sucking green-skins to the life I once had….

* * *

Before arriving on this planet, I used to be a soldier in the Imperial Guard. I was born in the blasted hellhole of a hive-world that is Necromunda. From there, I joined the planet's regiment of guardsmen (well it was either that or rotting out a miserable existence in those accursed hives). Appropriately enough, I wound up in the XIII platoon, fighting across countless worlds, conquering in the name of the Imperium of mankind and killing scores of Tau, Eldar, and Chaos Space Marines as well as any other scum who were dumb enough to stand in our way.

However, all this changed during one encounter with the Tyranids. The planet, Brontes VI, was overrun by those accursed bugs and my regiment were summoned to assist in evacuating the survivors. Heading the operation was perhaps the most inept Imperial Commander this side of Mordian: Commander Marcus Acmon.

He wasn't quite Warmaster Macaroth but dammit, he's the bastard who got me into this mess!

My platoon was defending a communications station, with the strict orders not to abandon it under any circumstances. However, in predictable fashion, the Tyranids launched a full-scale assault with, what appeared to be, every stinking bug on the damn planet! My platoon was caught unaware and, being outnumbered and completely unprepared for dealing with such a large mass of enemies, we had little hope of surviving. Thus, the Tyranids grinded through us – and with little effort at that. Although we put up a great fight and inflicted heavy casualties, the bugs tore through us like a hot knife through butter.

I can tell you, that was a day of hell. All around, I could see my fellow grunts being torn apart with those lethal teeth and claws. I could hear the screams of the dying, the sounds of limbs being ripped apart by alien talons and the various explosions of the alien weaponry. I tell you, even now, my dreams are haunted by that horrendous experience.

Anyway, although we had our orders to hold the station at any cost, I however snapped under the pressure and bolted. I didn't care for the mission, I didn't care for my comrades, nor did I care for the consequences of such an action. I just wanted to escape that hellhole!

On the wings of pure terror, I ran back to the nearest friendly settlement. However, it didn't take long before some officer identified me and I was arrested – on the charges of desertion.

Eventually, Acmon appealed to the Adeptus Astartes and the Ultramarines arrived to deal with the Tyranids. Eventually, after much fighting, they succeeded in recapturing the station. However, they also reported that no human was left alive: The XIII platoon had been completely annihilated. All officers and infantry were completely torn apart at the hands of the Tyranids. They had laid down their lives for the defence of the communications station but to no greater good.

This made me the last survivor.

But that wasn't all: This incident turned out to be a complete embarrassment for Commander Acmon: they had lost an entire platoon and the call for Space Marine assistance had blown what was originally an evacuation procedure out of proportion. Rather than risk possible demotion for this incident, Commander Acmon decided to save face by selecting a scapegoat to take all the blame for this horrendous incident.

And this case it happened to be the last survivor of the XIII platoon.

Me.

Thus, I was eventually placed on trial. It was a joke: I wasn't given much in the way of defence and any claims that I snapped under pressure fell on deaf ears (I think it was something on that any soldier of the Emperor shouldn't run when confronted with the face of adversity).

Regardless the blasted Commander Acmon seemed all too keen to have me proven guilty and sent away for proper punishment. That was all very good for his career but didn't prove to be so hot for me. Thus, I was transported, under heavy guard, to a cruiser that would take me away from Brontes VI and to a miserable future as part of the Penal legion.

But suddenly, something incredible happened.

The ship never made it to its destination - for it was intercepted by a group of Dark Eldar raiders. Wasting no time, the alien bastards quickly set about destroying the ship and butchering anyone they found to be standing in their way.

Of course, I was still incarcerated within my holding cell on board the ship. I only grasped an idea of what was going on through the announcements from the loudspeakers of the ship's intercom. And naturally, I couldn't do a damn thing while the ship careered into total chaos. The only thing I could do was sit tight within my cell and wait for Death to come for me……

But then, a second stoke of luck happened: I was rescued.

With a rush of released air, the door to my cell opened up. Surprised, I looked up to see down the barrel of a laspistol. And the soldier who held it.

Judging from his appearance, he was a young bastard who hadn't seen proper combat before – I could pick this up because his eyes were frightened and his face was pale. Obviously, he hadn't seen his comrades being torn to shreds by the Dark Eldar before.

In a voice that betrayed his fear, the young man demanded that the Dark Eldar were heading this way and since the commanding officers were gone, he was going to fulfil the mission of executing me on the spot.

When I think of the poor bastard now, all I can do is scoff: Such a try-hard. Obviously he had heard far too many stories and had an impression of being a career-soldier.

What a fool….

Anyway, I wasn't going to take my chances with a deluded moron like this one – besides I haven't lived this long by following the rules!

Thus, it was about than that my battle-hardened instincts took over: I quickly dealt a lethal blow to his jaw. This promptly sent the young soldier to the floor. From there I quickly grabbed his discarded pistol and ran to freedom.

But to what freedom? The Dark Eldar had taken over the ship and should they see me, they would kill me without hesitation. If anything, I needed to get off this ship and fast.

Fortunately for me, the Dark Eldar were nowhere in sight. Obviously the young soldier who threatened me was already well-ahead of them.

Thus, in turn, gave me plenty of time to formulate a plan….

Riding on the wings of fear and desperation, I bolted down the corridor I had emerged into from my prison cell. As I ran, my mind whirled, with the priorities of escaping this already-doomed ship and the prospect of certain death from those damn Dark Eldar. Of course, I had no idea how I was going about such a task but it didn't stop me from trying!

And besides, if worse comes to worse, I still had a gun that I could use on my pursuers. Besides, there was no way in hell that I was going to enter a life of slavery within the Dark Eldar's clutches! Submit to such a fate? I would rather die!

And take a few of those bastards with me at the same time.

Besides, going down in a blaze of glory sounds the more ideal way to go out than live out a miserable existence as a Dark Eldar slave.

Or a Penal legionnaire for that matter.

It was then that the third stroke of luck happened.

As I sprinted blindly down the corridor, I managed to catch in the corner of my eye, the blinking red light set within a panel set within silver wall of the ship.

A panel that bore the distinctive Imperial indications of an Emergency Hatch.

I skidded to a halt. Emergency?

Maybe there's something I can use here….

Within two long strides, I found myself directly in front of the panel - it was part of the portal to an escape pod.

I blinked.

I then quickly scanned my gaze across the readout screen that was situated underneath the panel, my brow furrowing as the analysis danced before my eyes.

And the analysis was good:

The escape pod was still empty and waiting to be used. And it wasn't damaged as well.

Was this a stroke of pure luck? An act of the Emperor?

Who cares?! What mattered was this was my way out of here!

Perspiration began breaking out across my forehead. Already I could hear the corridor echo with the distant footsteps of the Dark Eldar.

And they were growing closer quite rapidly.

And considering how fast those black-hearted bastards moved, time was of the essence.

Wasting no time, I quickly set about activating the escape pod……

And the footsteps grew closer….

I quickly punched out a selection of numbers into the panel.

And the footsteps grew closer….

But the panel responded with a most unwelcome of messages:

++ Clearance required for pod usage.

Please enter identification number.

And the footsteps grew closer….

"Clearance?!" I shouted in exasperation. Why the hell would the damn thing need clearance!? This ship is doomed and I'm gonna die if I don't get outta here!

And the footsteps grew closer….

Desperation urged me to hit out a bunch of random numbers into the panel.

And the footsteps grew closer….

Identification number unrecognised.

Re-Enter in 30 seconds

"I DON'T HAVE THIRTY SECONDS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!!" I bellowed in frustration.

And the footsteps grew closer….

With every blood vessel in my being set to explode, I grit my teeth and delivered a lethal punch straight into the panel.

This sent the panel exploding with a massive crack.

And the footsteps grew closer….

But suddenly, seconds after the destruction of the panel, the hatch to the escape pod opened!

And the footsteps grew closer….

Sweating with both desperation and relief, I quickly darted in the waiting capsule….

Once inside, I activated the computer and set about getting off this doomed ship…..

………..And I don't recall too much after that.

* * *

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	5. Arrival

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Five

When I escaped the doomed prison ship, I had no idea with regards to what will happen next. Where was I going? Would I crash-land on a planet only to be killed by the impact? Will the Dark Eldar find me and kill me?

(such a thought made dying in a crash-landing far more appealing)

But the funny thing is I don't recall the actual journey from the ship itself.

However, the next thing I knew, I found myself being jostled from unconsciousness. This occurred from the capsule striking something with an incredible impact. This was soon followed by a rush of movement, where the pod careered in a haphazard fashion across an indeterminable amount of distance.

I could feel myself being tossed around within the capsule, as it shuddered and shook its way across it's journey across the planet's surface. Already, various pieces on the inside of the capsule were beginning to fall apart, but somehow, I managed to survive the disintegration of the capsule's insides. Call it a miracle or an act of the Emperor, I avoided contact with the tumbling computers,

Within time, I found myself gradually regaining consciousness.

It was then that the first thing hit me. Something bright was shining in my face. But what was it? Natural light? Or the glaring searchlight from some vigilant scum who thought they had found someone whom they thought they had found a throat worth slitting? (In this time of eternal war, you just can't trust anyone these days)

Eventually, I opened my eyes.

And to my surprise, I was confronted with a mass of blue light, the stretched out beyond the clear viewing window of the capsule.

And the intruding brightness turned out to be sunlight.

I can't really say what a relief that was when I saw the sunlight: It meant that I was alive. And I had escaped a bleak future as a Penal Legionnaire and, at the same time, eluded the Dark Eldar.

I smiled. How about that? Such an escape is truly the stuff of legend. Oh, if only the boys back in the XIII platoon could see me now. This incident would make a story that anyone would want to hear time and time again!

I had escaped two cases of certain death and arrived here!

My smile then fell.

Where exactly was here?

Sure there was some sunshine but that wasn't really vindictive of the environment I had fallen into. Just because there's blue skies doesn't always mean that this place is the safest in world.

Seeking some answers, I turned to the onboard scanners on the escape pod

The answers that came proved to be rather promising: This planet was beyond the borders of Imperial space but it had a non-toxic atmosphere. It was also a jungle planet, proving it had the capabilities of supporting water and vegetation – thus making it somewhat inhabitable for me.

Needless to say, I was keen on exploring this place. After all if I'm going to be stuck here, then I might as well get used to the place.

But I had to find some suitable items to help me with this search. Just because this is a jungle planet doesn't mean that it was free of any danger. For all I know, there could be something nasty lurking in the trees.

After rummaging around in escape pod, I managed to find a pair of bolt-pistols in holsters – the standard issue to all Imperial escape pods in case of it landing in a hostile environment.

Emergency or not, these two are coming with me….

I also managed to find a greatcoat, stashed away in a locker. It seemed to resemble that of an Imperial officer: It was black in shape and it had a pin attached in the shape of the typical Imperial eagle.

I shrugged. As I was still dressed in a dirty shirt and pants of an Imperial criminal, this coat would be a welcome asset.

I pulled the coat on, holstered the pistols and left the pod, to explore this planet that I had landed on.

The first thing that struck was just how bright the sun was. I guess after spending so long clambering around in a prison ship and a darkened escape pod, the sudden burst of bright light may take some time to get used to.

Eventually, my eyes got used to the change on environment, allowing me to see this planet I had arrived to.

I appeared to have landed right in the middle of large clearing. All around the pod were a legion of fallen trees, all lying on their sides, their branches stripped completely of leaves. Some trees had been separated from their trunks whilst others had been ripped up from the ground completely, to display their roots to the world.

Upon examining the trees, it seemed that something created this clearing and it was only recently at that.

And it didn't take a genius to work out exactly what that something was.

Beyond the clearing, stood a wall of green vegetation stretching out as far as the eye could see. A mass of trees surrounded this newly-created clearing, underneath the gaze of a perfect blue sky.

I blinked before shrugging. What was I going to do now?

I looked up at the escape pod. It wasn't a pretty sight. The giant barrel-shaped object had slammed it's way right into the planet's surface. All around it was a mass of dirt and rock arranged in a ring around the base of the pod, no doubt having been brought up by the impact.

In any case, the pod was partially buried in the planet's surface and nothing will be moving it no matter what.

Meaning, my means of getting here won't be providing the means of leaving. I was well and truly stuck here.

My brow furrowed. What to do now?

Lazily, my eye drifted from the pod to the trees surrounding the clearing.

Oh well, may as well see what the rest of the planet has to offer.

So, I set off across the clearing headed for the trees. I went across the felled trees, jumping from one to another whilst keeping my eyes out for something unusual.

However, no such thing came: The clearing seemed rather ordinary (apart from the trees that had freshly felled through unnatural causes), and nothing was picked up by my sharp gaze: There were no signs of civilisation whatsoever: no metal, no scrap of clothing, no footprints or any sign of life.

This certainly was reassuring: perhaps it was an uninhabited planet after all.

Yet, at the same time, this also inspired a sense of unease. The still nature of this planet does nothing more than increase the potential of danger I may have wandered into.

For all I know, as I make my way across this clearing someone could be watching me. Such an idea wasn't too far-fetched – after all, judging by the amount of devastation that lay scattered across the clearing, the escape pod must have hit the planet with an incredible force. So, if there was anyone living on this planet they would've surely come to investigate by now.

What was even more unsettling was the thought that someone could be watching and they could just happen to be a sniper.

Such a thought sent shivers down my spine: Here I was, right in the middle of a massive clearing whilst making my way through countless fallen trees. Being out in the open, this would give any potential sniper the perfect hit…….

I blinked such a thought away and mentally scolded myself. Pull yourself together man! You've only just arrived here and, so far, this planet seems uninhabited. To hell with such absurd thoughts!

With a grim expression on my face, I continued on my way to the edge of the clearing, navigating a route though all the fallen trees.

Yet all the way, I could sense my hand hovering near the two holsters that held my two bolt pistols……..

Eventually, I arrived at my destination: Before me stood a mass of jungle. All around were huge green ferns, trees that were covered with moss whose roots reached deep into the earth, strange brown fungi that crawled their way across the many logs and a damp earth beneath my feet.

In the terms of natural wonders, this certainly was a very beautiful planet.

There was also the sound of softly running water, thus suggesting a small stream running through nearby.

Apart from that, all around was complete silence…

Considering that I had emerged from spending an incalculable amount of time locked within a cell, situated in a decrepit corner of an Imperial starship, seeing a place like this was a welcome relief. All around was colour, clean air and the sense of freedom.

But the most interesting fact about this planet was that it appeared completely untouched: There were no signs that this jungle had been previously disturbed by any life-form or any product of civilisation. The whole jungle looked completely untouched by anyone for a time that was too great for comprehension.

Should one ignore the destructive path brought upon by my abrupt arrival from the escape pod minutes earlier.

I grinned with the utmost satisfaction. Now this was looking damn promising! A clean, beautiful planet that seemed unspoiled and uninhabited! A planet all to myself! How damn good is that!

My eyes then turned towards the trees: They seemed to bear some sort of fruit.

I took a step towards the tree before reaching up and picking one of the pieces of fruit off. I examined this latest discovery: It appeared edible and didn't seem to bear any obvious signs of danger.

But then again, it could be poisonous on the inside.

Oh well, if I didn't take any risks, there's no way I would've survived this long!

I bit into the fruit and pulled out a mouthful.

The taste seemed a bit odd but, at the same time, it was also rather refreshing.

I took another bite. And another. The sweet sensation of the fruit's taste careered down into my stomach, thus satisfying a hole that needed to be filled

I grinned. I don't know what this fruit is called, but damn, I could certainly get to like it! After all, I may as well get to like it because I may be stuck here for a while….

My eyes then settled on the river that traversed through this scene. I then tramped over to investigate it closely.

The water appeared to be clean and fresh, so I cupped one of my hands to obtain some of the water and brought it to my face.

I sipped some of the water, and paused as my tongue conducted an analysis: It seemed clean enough and certainly drinkable.

So, I cupped both my hands to collect more water – which I promptly splashed over my face!

I sighed with satisfaction – there's no greater feeling than splashing some cool, sweet water over one's face! Yes, this was getting better and better! Who would've guessed that being standard on a planet could be such a great prospect?

I grinned a wide grin and looked up at the sky.

And that's when I heard it.

The sound of a twig going snap.

The sound of a twig going snap that could only have come from something large and heavy treading on it.

Immediately, my warrior senses took over. I instinctively reached for the bolt pistol that rested on my hip holster and drew it.

I aimed the gun in front of me. And then to the left. And then to the right.

With hardened eyes, I looked around this green paradise. This was just the type of place for an ambush.

For all I know, some bastard could be watching me from afar.

Immediately, my hopes of being isolated on a green paradise were ruined. Now, it seemed that whilst I have arrived on this planet, I had to share it with someone, or something, else.

_Come on_ I thought. _Pull yourself together! It's possible that you may have heard was a figment of your imagination._

But there was no use listening to reason: Now that I was convinced that I wasn't alone, my battle instincts had pretty much taken over.

My ears slowly pricked, trying to detect something that would reveal to me what else was inhabiting this jungle.

But all around was complete and utter silence.

I grit my teeth, trying to find a clue.

But when none came, I screamed in frustration – before wasting a handful of bolt pistol shells into the nearest tree. The tree then exploded in a cloud of smoke.

I paused, breathing heavily as the stench of fresh timber filtered through the air.

So much for paradise…..

As my mind returned to normality, I then raised my head and sniffed the air: It seemed healthy enough…….

But there was something else in the air: It was a rather unpleasant stench that reeked throughout the scene.

It was the unmistakable scent of an alien species…..

Eventually I shrugged: I must have been mistaken. Besides, I had just escaped both the prospect of oblivion in the Penal legion AND certain death at the hands of those damn Dark Eldar. And as such, now was not the time to go and let my warrior skills take over. Now was the time to keep such experience in check.

Besides, at this stage, I wasn't too concerned with encountering the inhabitants of this planet (if there were any). Instead, I was more concerned with exploring this world….

And seeing as I needed something to cool off my mind, I immediately headed over to the stream. With a whop of joy, I feel to my knees and plunged my face into the cool water. In the mass of blue, I grinned with satisfaction: After spending so long cooped up in that prison ship, this was a moment to be relished. The coolness that washed over my face was worth very minute of my time, as was the wondrous feeling of the water entering my dry mouth.

Then, I emerged from the water, feeling wonderfully refreshed. This was the type of thing that one couldn't do in the Penal legion!

Suddenly, out of the corner of eye, I caught the familiar glint of metal.

I blinked. What the hell…….?

Then I saw it: There, on the other side of the river was a low fern. And, at it's roots, nearly undetectable for being almost entirely concealed by the fern's enormous leaves, was a…….

And suddenly my blood ran cold.

I began to feel somewhat uneasy: Suddenly, I began to experience that familiar sensation of being not alone….

My eyes grew wild and my face twisted with rage. I immediately jumped into the stream and charged my way through it to the other side. I certainly made a bit of noise and sight with the depths of my splashing but I didn't care: I just wanted some answers.

I then made it to the other side, reached past the fern leaves and grabbed my newly-found discovery.

It was the ammunition magazine from a boltgun.

An Ork boltgun.

My blood ran cold. The uneasy feeling of not being alone on this planet returned only stronger than before.

My mind started racing: Was I really alone on this planet? Or was there someone else?

Was this an Ork World? Or was this discarded magazine the product a group of the greenskins who were marooned on this world? The magazine seemed freshly used, but just how long had it been lying there? And if there really were Orks on this planet, just how far away were they from the crash site? And did they really _see_ the crash?

I blinked and shook my head. No, I must not think like that. There was no way in hell I was going to let my newly-acquired freedom be bothered by the nasty thought of winding up in a position where I was threatened by hostile aliens.

Even if the aliens in question were my least favoured race in this entire galaxy.

Besides, I had just arrived here so I needed something of a plan……

I immediately raced back to the pod.

Once inside, I quickly consulted the on-board computer:

World unidentifiable:

This planet holds no identification within Imperial records or within region.

My blood suddenly ran cold. This wasn't good news.

This news hit me hard – I then stumbled out of the escape pod and sat down in the doorway.

I groaned at my fate: I was stuck here. Trapped beyond friendly space and no one knows I'm here – even if the people who may be aware of my existence are the people who want me dead.

It seems I have substituted one hostile environment for another…..

Struck by a sudden thought, I then looked up towards the sky. If I had landed this far beyond Imperial borders then just how long was I travelling through space in this escape pod?

It is most likely that I have travelled an indeterminable distance for an equally indeterminable amount of time.

Who knows what has happened in that time…..?

Suddenly, my muscles tensed. My warrior-forged instincts immediately alerted me to the nasty feeling of being watched…..

My eyes hardened. I looked around as my hand reached for my bolt-pistol holsters.

Suddenly, I saw it: there, lurking in amongst the trees was a huge greenskin. His red beady eyes glared back at me.

But he didn't move immediately. He just lurked in the undergrowth refusing to move. If anything, he seemed surprised to see me as I was to see him. I guess he wasn't expecting to see a human.

With my suspicions about possible threats to my solidarity confirmed, I immediately drew my bolt pistol and fired.

And just as soon as he had caught sight of me, the Ork suddenly found his brains creeping out from his cranium and onto the jungle floor.

I then approached the corpse and delivered another shell – this time into the body.

Suddenly, at the exact moment the shell hammered home, the jungle shook with a roar. A roar that was easily identifiable as one of the bestial kind.

I paused. That didn't sound too good.

Seconds later, the jungle was rocked with massive explosion. This was followed soon after by a roaring laughter - the type that was deformed beyond human recognition.

This laughter was soon accompanied by a different type of roar – the one that demanded a challenge from any newcomer stupid enough to provide any kind of defiance (usually of the pitiful kind).

My blood ran cold. This didn't sound too good.

Another explosion followed, along with more bestial roaring – only this time it sounded much closer than before.

My brow furrowed.

More Orks.

And they were heading this way!

My mind froze, trying to work out what to do next. As the sounds of the approaching Orks grew closer and closer and louder and louder, I could feel my fingers twitch around the trigger of my two bolt pistols.

Sounds like there are a lot of Orks heading this way…..

So what do I do?!

Naturally, they wouldn't appreciate the sudden arrival of a hated human and would gladly break every bone in my body. I however, have a mutual feeling towards the Orks and I would embrace the chance to kill lots of those hated greenskins.

But there certainly sounds like a lot of them heading this way….

I bet with my firing skills, I could kill all of them in one fell swoop……!

But, in spite of my self-reassurance, my survival instincts took over: I withdrew my pistols back into their holsters and run towards the edge of the clearing. Once there, I dived for the safety of the undergrowth.

It didn't seem like the best of plans but for the moment, having escaped from both the prospect of execution and the Dark Eldar, dying was the last thing on my mind.

Within moments, a large group of greenskins burst into view. They came bursting out from the jungle, waving their waxes, firing off their boltguns and making as much noise as a herd of Ogryns.

I had to admit that these Orks weren't any I had fought before during my time in the Imperial Guard. Most of them were bald, sported massive tusks for teeth, and heavily muscled. Most of them were bare-chested and wore the scrappiest of trousers, covered with mud stains, tears and crude patches. Their axes were nothing more than rusting blades tied to thick tree branches. Their boltguns looked like pieces of metal attached together in the most haphazard fashion (which, in the terms of Ork technology is saying a lot). And even if Orks aren't the brightest of all creatures in the universe, these creatures didn't seem to show any signs of intelligence whatsoever.

Make no mistake these were very different from the Orks I had encountered before.

For one thing, most important of all, they were even uglier.

Then they noticed the escape pod and they all fell silent. Obviously they weren't expecting to something of this size and multitude in the middle of the jungle. They all circled around it, both in awe and in suspicion.

Suddenly, one of the greenskins pointed out the distinctive double-headed eagle of the Imperial insignia. He then started roaring in an aggressive fashion – to which the other Orks joined in.

From my hiding place I blinked. So far, these Orks seemed to be more feral than the one's I had encountered before.

I glared in annoyance at the hated greenskins. Why am I doing in hiding? There wasn't much keeping me in the way of confronting them all and fighting them. Sure they had strength the numbers and were incredibly muscular, but if I'm truly marooned on this planet then I would rather fight them! That way, a destiny of going down in a blaze of glory is well assured. And that proposition sounds much better than living out my days as an old man - and still without the means of getting off!

By now, the Orks had grown frustrated with the escape pod and had now set about attacking it: They began beating their crude axes up against it.

Exactly what to achieve I do not know.

But as I watched then, I was unsure as to what I should be doing: Obviously I should get out of there whilst the Orks were distracted but I couldn't let them destroy that escape pod. Then again, the escape pod won't get me off this planet so there it's not much use to me, but why shouldn't I face these Orks when there's not on offer for me at the moment?

As I mentally debated on this issue, it didn't take long for my warrior instincts to take over. It saw that with me in hiding and the Orks unaware of my presence, this was the ideal opportunity to take some pot shots.

Slowly and silently, my hand reached down to find the grip of the bolt pistol. Then, without making as little movement as possible, I pulled it from its holster and raised it in front of my face. Looking down the barrel and past the giant fern leaves that concealed me, I aimed at the nearest Ork.

A window of opportunity...

I could feel my finger slowly squeeze the trigger.

I could blow his head off and he wouldn't know what hit him. ……….

Suddenly he turned.

Immediately I grew cold. And my finger halted in its movement.

The Ork's eyes blazed in anger. Something seemed to be on his (miniscule) mind.

I blinked. Could that thing be me?

Does he know I'm here?

The Ork's nostrils flared. He began sniffing the air, as if he had picked up a scent of some kind.

Suddenly, he grew angry – He began looking in my direction and bellowing out some kind of primal rage.

He knows I'm here.

Oh shit…..

Fortunately, a second Ork approached the first. He placed a brutish hand on his companion's shoulder and started growling something in a guttural tongue.

The first growled back, indicating his axe in the general direction of my hiding place.

The second started growling in short bursts – Presumably this was the Orkish equivalent of laughing.

The first blinked before bellowing at his companion – who simply shrugged. If anything, he seemed completely unconvinced to the first Ork's claim that something was hiding in there

I blinked. What was going on here? Was this a twist of fate? Or a lucky break?

Well, if this is a lucky break, then I should make the most of it….

Then utilising the slowest and silent of movements, I began wiggling on my back. With one eye being kept on the Orks, I slowly made my way from my hiding place and through the undergrowth.

The Orks continued in their actions – they looked like they were debating on the probability of something hiding in the bushes. And as such, they hadn't noticed my presence.

Yet.

I continued on my way, bolt pistol hand and a prayer to the Emperor in my lips.

I kept an eye on the two Orks. The first one now seemed to sense movement whilst the other didn't really seem terribly convinced that something was lurking in the bushes.

I grit my teeth and kept moving. So far so good…..

But for how long?

Then, the impossible happened.

The first Ork began to lose interest in the bushes. With an expression on his face that seemed to suggest indifference, he turned around and headed back towards the escape pod where the other greenskins were.

I blinked. Maybe it was the persuasion from the second Ork or himself thinking it was his imagination, I don't know (although the Ork noticing that he was missing out on attacking the escape pod may have been a more probably explanation).

But who cares? At least now, I don't have to worry about him finding me.

I continued on my way, squirming my way through the undergrowth. Within time, the Orks and escape pod disappeared from my view – although the jungle was still ringing with the sound of those crude axes being beaten against the steel plates of the escape pod's outer shell.

Eventually, when I gone a fair way on my back I got to my feet.

Then, I bolted.

Okay so it maybe wasn't the best of plans but at the moment, my survival instincts are in control. And they're telling me to put as much distance as humanly possible between those Orks and myself!

I continued to run for so long, but I eventually lost track of how long.

Eventually, my running gradually slowed down. It wasn't long afterwards that I came to a stop, my lungs huffing and puffing like there was no tomorrow.

I leant against a tree to get my breath back. As I did so, my brain began to focus on the current situation

Well this was good: I was now stuck on the world. The pod may have got me here to this planet but it certainly won't get me off. And considering that pod won't last much longer with the Orks attacking it, it leaves me out on my own, with no shelter, no food and limited ammo.

But in any case, my main priority at the moment was to elude the presence of the Orks. And find some kind civilisation that does not involve anything with green skin.

My gaze hardened and I then set off from the crash site.

Of course, if this was a planet that was situated beyond the borderlines of Imperial space, then it seems highly unlikely that there would exist an Imperial settlement of some kind. The chances of locating an Imperial missionary on this planet spreading the Imperial Creed also seem rather feeble.

But it doesn't stop me from trying…..

* * *

Several days later, nothing much had changed to my miserable position. I was still stranded on this planet – one which there was no Imperial settlement whatsoever or any other humans for that matter.

However in that time, I came to release two things:

One, after exploring my surroundings for many miles, I concluded that this was well and truly an Ork world: They were everywhere, all banded together in small groups. Some were moving, others had their own home base, but all appeared to be rivals with each other: Clashes between the groups happened each and every day.

I guess without anyone proper to fight, they had to rely on each other to satisfy their need for battle.

Secondly, I was well and truly stranded on this miserable planet. There didn't seem to any type of technology within the Orks grasp: I guess being situated on a planet with each other meant that there was always the threat of eternal combat. Consequently, I guess they were too bothered with fighting each other than to pursue the furthering their knowledge of science and technology. The few things that the Orks had bothered to build consisted of shelters of the ramshackle kind as well as giant axes amongst other equally crude weapons.

But there was nothing in the way of a flying device or any type of vehicle. Worse still, there wasn't any type of motor or power generator.

Since my accidental arrival to this rock, I have returned to the escape pod but that hasn't got any better – What was left of it was a mere skeleton: What was once an Imperial escape pod was now a very bare-looking steel structure that had been scorched, ruined and vandalised. All the steel shielding was gone as well the inside of the pod. All the onboard computers were gone and the additional equipment that come with the pod. Obviously more Orks had been through and had plundered whatever they could find to use for their own purposes. Anything they could find unusable they would've smashed it with their axes and used for target practice of their boltguns - the fact that this was a product of the hated Imperium must have given them further incentive to wreck it.

In other words, I was well and truly marooned on this planet without any means whatsoever of getting off.

However it didn't take long for me to realise that the Dark Eldar haven't dared to show their scum-sucking ugly faces around on this planet. Most likely that my escape from the prison shop had somehow managed to eluded their sensors.

When I came to this realisation, I was suddenly fulfilled with the greatest sense of triumph: Escaping the Dark Eldar: That type of feat is the stuff of legend!

Now, if only there was someone else around to hear me when I tell them of this greatest of escapes…..

Perhaps I should be thankful: After all, I had escaped the potentially nasty fate of being stationed with the Penal Legion with the rest of the scum of the Imperium.

But at the expense of what?

I had found freedom but all it did was thrust me onto a planet infested with, those scum of the Universe, Orks! Now I was trapped here: there was nothing more I could do except deal with the damned greenksins and delay my own death.

Still, I should at least be thankful that the Dark Eldar never discovered my presence on the ship or picked up the escape pod. At least being stranded on an Ork world sounds like a more favourable option then suffering at the hands of the Dark Eldar in their dungeons.

But what was going to happen now? An Imperial rescue seemed possible considering that the Imperial fleets will inevitably trace the missing pod to this planet. But then what? I'm still an Imperial criminal: Thus, should a rescue squad come, I will, once again, find myself being chipped to the Penal Legion.

At this rate it seemed only a miracle will get me out this less-than-desirable fate.

But since when has the all-seeing, all-knowing Emperor turned his gaze to criminal scum like myself?

However in a way this thing was the best thing that happened to me. I was beyond the fringes of the Imperium and no one knew where I was.

I had been granted a second chance at life. I had been saved from certain death by being thrust into a permanent warzone.

If I was ever going to stand a chance of survival, I would need to stay one step ahead of the greenskins. I would have to raid small groups of them for food and ammo. I would need to rely on my knowledge of guerrilla warfare to stay alive on this planet. I would have to continually strike the Orks under the cover of the jungle and kill them off in small numbers before they know what is happening. And most important of all, I must not, under circumstances let those damn greenskins become aware that I'm on this planet.

Like I said, this incident has granted me second chance at life.

And I'm going to use it.

Certainly sounds better prospect than fighting losing battles within the Penal Legion

And as such, there is no way in Hell that I'm going to leave this planet.

* * *

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	6. Dawn

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Six

Interestingly enough, what woke me the next morning wasn't a number of Orks barging in to disturb my sleep, nor was it the sound of some kind of firearm being fired or some explosion.

It was an unusual silence.

I blinked my eyes open, the rare luxury of sleep drifting away for at least another eighteen or so hours.

I groaned, as battle hardened joints began moving from several hours of sleep and into action.

I've never been a morning person

But, years of training within the Imperial Guard, along with an undeterminable amount of time spent on this miserable rock had put such an attitude to rest.

Considering I am now no longer a Guardsman, you'd think I'll allow myself the privilege of sleeping in. After all, it's not like spending a day on this miserable rock was a decent motivation to wake up.

But survival was.

Not that I had much left to live for anyway.

I sat up upon the borough I had made as my bed. I pushed aside some of the leaves of the tree, to the sight of the morning sky.

Already streaks of yellow began forming in front of me, thus pushing the darkened areas of sky away for the next twelve hours in a seemingly never-ending cycle.

It was dawn.

I paused, soaking in the warmth of the sun: Well, here we go again, another day of running, hiding and slaughtering. And all in the name of survival.

Just simply wonderful.

Makes me wonder if it will ever end…..

But then again, at least there's something for me here. Here, I can delay my death instead of retuning to the Imperium and a swift route to my demise.

Oh well…

But I don't have much time to ponder about my pitiful life at the moment. Dawn was the time to get moving. In order to avoid the nasty, and ever-present, prospect of being discovered by our consistent enemy, it was imperative that we didn't stay in the one place for too long.

And considering that the Orks are a warlike race, it was extremely doubtful that they were the type that would spend mornings sleeping in.

Well I wouldn't know but I wasn't really game enough to go to the effort of finding out.

I reached underneath my head for my coat and my twin pistols. I quickly slung my coat around my shoulders before picking my ever present bolt-pistols in each hand.

I then turned my head towards the general direction of Xerxes.

I knew how to find him and his sleeping location: he was must likely resting in the place where all that inane mumbling was coming from.

Yes, Xerxes was the type that mumbled in his sleep. Most likely it was from any dreams of grandeur he might be having (no doubt involving him being the richest, most powerful man in the galaxy or some nonsense).

Considering how much he mumbled I'm surprised that the Orks hadn't found him and killed him in his sleep

Wish they did though.

It would certainly take a weight off my mind.

Still, regardless of what contempt I had for the imbecile, I still couldn't leave him there. I had to get him up and moving.

And this presented me with the perfect opportunity to have some fun….

I carefully made my way through the branches of the tree, being careful not to make any noise that would disturb Xerxes or attract the unwanted attention of any Orks.

I knew he was resting within a tree though identifying the direction from where his mumbling was coming from.

That and he would have to be completely stupid to rest on the ground rather than the safety of a tree branch.

Hey, he was an idiot but he wasn't that much of an idiot.

In that sense, I had no trouble finding him: He was resting on a thick borough, his head leaning up against the thick tree trunk and his lasgun gripped firmly in his hands.

He was still asleep, completely unaware of my sudden presence.

Just perfect.

With a shout of "Wakey wakey!", I immediately brought my boot down right into his body. The boot, which boasted a nasty set of steel caps, rammed its way into the flesh and promptly set the Rogue Trader's eyes fluttering open.

I chuckled myself. It felt good to do that.

The fact that it got him awake was an added bonus.

Not that I was planning it would but still.….

With a loud cry of alarm, Xerxes' head shot up from against the tree trunk.

Immediately, words began tumbling out of his mouth.

"What's going?! Orks?! Where?! I'll kill them all! Dark Eldar? I'll take them all on! Where's my ship? Where's my crew?! I must protect my cargo at any cost or else my employer will have my head!"

And on he went. He rambled on, shouting the most random of phrases whilst not showing any indication of being aware of my presence.

Strangely enough this was normal: He carried on like this on some mornings. I had no idea what inspired it – I've asked him about it on several occasions but, over the rest of the day, he wouldn't seem to have any recollection of acting like in this manner.

I had my own theories for this: most likely it was the best indication he had troubled dreams. Equally plausible was that he had a sense of paranoia that he kept concealed.

But either way, I can't allow him to carry on like this: He won't be able to move around with or do anything, whilst rattling on like this. Worse still, he would bring a whole horde of Orks down upon us.

Of course, I could leave him like this and let the Orks do away with him. Such an idea sounded tempting…

But in the end, he was a human. And no matter how detestable he is, he is, as always, the best chance of company I'm ever going to receive.

So, in order to shut him up, I gave him a fist to the face,

Something I have used in the past to shut people up and which has never let me down.

And this time was no exception.

Indeed, such was the force of the blow that the hapless Rogue Trader fell out of the tree and plummeted to the jungle floor.

He hit the ground with a tremendous thud.

And then, there was silence.

I grinned. Hey it worked - he shut up.

Then I heard something

"Oh, good morning to you Narc"

I paused. Sure it was Xerxes' voice but its speech had a sense of cohesion to it.

He was awake.

* * *

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	7. Uninvited

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Seven

Even Xerxes was far from desirable company, he was the only other human on this miserable rock. He had arrived after I had spent some weeks by myself. In the time since, we had managed to build something of a bond in the time that we had spent in each other's company.

It's not that we had anything else to do anyway.

Besides, it's fair to assume that at the time I was glad to find some human company at long last.

He arrived pretty much the same way as me: Being ejected from an escape pod and plummeting down to earth. At that time, I had long since succumbed to the idea that I was stuck here, I was all alone and I had little hope in the way of survival (at least all of the above sounded more appealing better than being in the Penal Legion). So, I was slowly establishing a way of life upon this rock (one which I still live by to this day). I had been travelling for days across this planet, always running into Orks, but never really seeing any other signs of life. Within days, it became clear to me: I was the only human trapped on an Ork world.

It didn't bother me too much however. After all, the only thing I could do was just roam around, and try to keep alive.

Not that it made any difference but being here seemed a much better proposition than being in the Penal Legion.

Anyway, at that stage, I had to kill any Ork I met all in the name of survival. I then would steal their ammunition and weapons plus anything else that could be used (which, considering the amount of manufacture the Orks apply into their gear didn't mean a lot). Of course, it seemed rather absurd to include Ork ammunition within two Imperial bolt pistols but now wasn't really the time to complain.

Nor care.

Being on a jungle planet, there was plenty of fruit and fresh water – none of which looked unhealthy or inedible (otherwise I would be long dead already). There was also some medicinal supplies in the escape pod – but being in limited numbers it made me adapt a more rational approach to confronting the Orks- namely applying stealth whenever possible and picking members of any group off one by one

All in all, there was enough here to contribute to my continued survival. Some of the Orks had settled in camps but I wasn't game enough to attack there.

Anyway, Xerxes' arrival certainly came as an absolute shock – I wasn't really expecting to see anyone else show up on this planet – particularly this far from the borderlines Imperial space.

I can still recall the day we met:

It was late morning and I was slowly making my way through one of the mountainous ranges of the planet. I had spent the entire morning slowly tracking a group of Orks, with the intention of picking them off one at a time. In all the time I spent following them, they had merely wandered around, not seeming to be heading anywhere in particular and without encountering any other groups of Orks.

All of this suited me fine – it's just the time to take them all out, one stinkin', scum-suckin' greenskin at a time……

At the present time, the Orks were moving through this mountain range at a slow pace. As for myself, I was watching them all from a well-concealed position above them. This was the perfect opportunity for a sniper killing: I could down one of them and, before the Orks realise what was happening, the rest will follow soon after.

I was about to squeeze the trigger of one of my bolt pistols…

When it happened:

One of the Orks suddenly jumped to his feet, looking up at me.

My blood went cold.

With a scream, he pointed up at me. All the other Orks immediately got to their feet, each adding more to the bellow.

I could feel my muscles tense: What was going on? Had they seen me? If so I had better take them all down now. And quickly!

But before I could open fire, the Orks suddenly bolted. The group scattered in all directions – most of them heading down the slope.

I paused. What the hell was this? I expect they would immediately attack a human when confronted with the sight of one.

Curiosity demanded that I look over my shoulder.

And that's when I saw it.

A huge meteorite came plummeting down from the sky, flames burning across it and its pace relentless.

All heading towards one location:

This mountainside

Oh fuck….

Riding on the wings of urgency, my legs propelled me out of cover and into the air. My feet then found the ground and I bolted. Trying to escape, I ran like hell as the sound of the meteorite descending grew closer and louder behind me.

I had no idea how much distance I had covered before the meteorite crashed.

The shockwave sent me off my feet and tumbling down the rest of the slope. …..

I don't recall too much after that – but when I regained consciousness, I found myself on my back. The stench of burn wood was strong in the air as well as the distinctive smell of Ork flesh.

Ork Flesh?!

My eyes shot opened – only to find myself confronted with the horrendous sight of several boltgun barrels.

I looked around: I had been discovered by the very same Orks I had been following. And now they had got me.

Just simply superb.

Each one of them glared at me, their guns well-trained on me. I guess they didn't fire because they were, as always, not expecting to see a human on this planet. Perhaps their miniscule brains, such as they were, were too busy trying to think this unexpected occurrence through.

Two Orkish boots kept both my hands pinned down. The Emperor knows where my two trusty bolt pistols were at this point in time. Furthermore, being cornered like this meant there was no room to pull off something of an escape.

Besides, the only one I could think of who could possibly get out of a situation like this was an Imperial assassin.

So the only thing that could be done was to wait for the cold hand of death to come my way - at long last.

But it never came.

Instead, my ears detected the distinctive sound of a burst of lasgun fire screaming through the air. Seconds later, one of the Orks tumbled forward – With a freshly made bullet wound to the head, he came crashing down.

Upon me.

"What the Hell?!" I shouted "Get offa me, ya stinkin' greenskin!"

The other Orks didn't respond to my sudden burst of screaming – instead they were too busy wondering where that lasgun came from.

The answer came in the form of more fire that rang across the scene. Although my vision was obscured by the dead Ork that kept me to the floor, I couldn't see what was happening. But I could feel the thud of the Orks tumbling to the forest floor, one after the other.

I ground my teeth in my frustration. I gotta get out of here – it's not so much that I'm missing the action but the fact that I'm stuck beneath a wretched greenskin!

Grabbing the Ork with my own two hands (even if such a prospect was detestable in my honest opinion) I began shoving the corpse of me. It certainly wasn't the most pleasurable experience – I could feel the sweat dripping from the Ork's flesh. I could feel the repulsive Ork stench reeking out from his pores. And I could the line that was the Ork flesh (to which I have never touched again to this day).

Finally, with a roar, I shoved the Ork up and off me. Gritting my teeth as I shook my hands clean (handling an Ork – nasty thought), my eyes gathered the scene around me.

This was the first time I had got a good look of my surroundings since the meteorite fell and I was thrust into unconsciousness. Needless to say, the place was ruined – All around, so many trees had tumbled – some had been shattered from their stumps and into pieces of wood, whilst others had been uprooted completely, leaving their massive roots in the air. The devastation went for a radius several miles long, suggesting both a tremendous impact and an equally incredible shockwave that followed.

All around there was a stench, built from a distinctive mixture (distinctive when you've fought in the Imperial Guard as long as I have): wood, ash, burnt fernery, scorched flesh and metal.

And then there was the huge object that created this incident – It was embedded deep into the rocky surface of the slope and smoking incredibly. As the smoke gradually cleared, a form started to emerge. And then, it seemed that I was wrong: it wasn't a meteorite – it was an escape pod. But upon closer examination, it didn't appear to be of Imperial make. It did seem to appear to bear the signs of being created from human hands but, at the same time, there was something peculiar about it: It seemed more ramshackle and appeared to have a something from several other cultures about it. It was both human and non-human at the same time.

This created a sense of unease – who was in this pod? From where did it come from? Were the occupants still alive? And, for that matter, were they human?

I could feel my senses stiffen – Considering the stench and the impact of this escape pod; it would be obvious that more Orks would be attracted by it and, consequently, be already on their way over to investigate.

I blinked - talk about déjà vu…..

Just then, in amongst the smoke emitting from the ruined escape pod a figure emerged.

I could feel my hands tighten around the grip of my bolt-pistol. Sure this may be the sod who saved my life but who's to say they will spare my life?

As the figure moved closer from out of the smoke, my eyes struggled to reach a decent conclusion about this person. Was it an Ork? No, the figure was too tall for an Ork stature. He didn't smell like one either. Besides, if this was an Ork, he would've blown my head off by now.

Was it an Eldar? No, this figure didn't quite reach their level of height. His movements weren't up to par with a level of flawless grace anyway. Besides, if this was an Eldar, he would've blown my head off by now.

Was it a Tau? No, this figure didn't seem to have that much in the way of armour. Furthermore, his movements seemed more natural. Besides, if this was a Tau, he would've blown my head off by now.

Was it Chaos Space Marine? No, still not enough armour. Besides, he didn't have the repulsive stench of Chaos, nor did he seem to have any of the familiar mutations that make the followers of Chaos so distinctive. Besides, if this was a Chaos Space Marine, he would've blown my head off by now.

Was it a Genestealer? No, he didn't have enough limbs. And he was moving too slowly as well. Besides, if this was a Genestealer, he would've already leapt out onto me and torn my head off by now.

Finally, the figure stepped out into full view.

I could feel my fingers twitch. My heart began racing as revelation struck. Two eyes, pink flesh, black hair, ten fingers, two arms, two legs, facial hair, professionally crafted clothing. And clutching a smoking lasgun in their hand.

I was stunned – after spending days on this planet without any form of proper company, I have now, at long last, encountered a fellow human being.

But then my face fell.

After all the days I had invested into my own self-preservation, that company could've at least been a woman!

The man smiled at me.

"Hello there!" he greeted.

"Hi" I mumbled back.

The man's grin fell.

"I save you from being torn apart by those Orks and I don't get a mere 'thank you' in return?"

"So what?" I retorted "You want to kill some Orks? Well guess what: there's plenty more here that came from"

"My, my" the man said. "Aren't you the grouchy type!"

"If only you knew buddy" I muttered under my breath.

The man smiled a wide smile and strode over to me.

"Allow me to introduce myself" he said "I'm Xerxes, the finest Rogue Trader Captain this side of the Eye of Terror. Pleasure to meet you!" He then thrust his hand out, indicating that I should shake it.

I, however, did no such thing.

Sensing my disgust, the man calling himself Xerxes frowned again and withdrew his hand.

I had only met this guy and already I wasn't really enjoying his presence. The fact that he's claiming to be a Rogue Trader Captain isn't good enough for me: I knew them from my days in the Imperial Guard. I had always perceived them as being lying, back-stabbing, greedy, sneaky sons of Eldar who would do anything for money and would betray one at the drop of a hat.

But then again, everyone in this galaxy is like that.

Still, if he is who he says he is, then he must have ship. And if he does, then I may be able to scam a position on his ship off him so I can get off this stinking rock.

Okay, so that plan may come into conflict with my distrust of Rogue Traders but in the end, I would rather go with one of them than spend the rest of my days sharing planetary space with a whole lot of stinking green-skins.

Besides, considering that Rogue Traders operate outside the restrictions of Imperial law, if I pass myself off as one of his crew then I could escape any unwelcome intervention from the Imperial forces (I'm still long overdue for my position in the Penal Legion anyway).

"You're a Rogue Trader Captain?" I said.

"That's what I said"

"So tell me: what is a Rogue Trader Captain without a ship?"

Xerxes' grin suddenly grew laden with embarrassment.

"Ah well….. well… you see…. my ship kinda got taken over"

I frowned. These weren't the type of words that I was keen on hearing.

"My crew kinda mutinied on me" Xerxes went on. "They grew annoyed with me so much that they revolted, tied me up, thrust me in that escape pod and sent me here."

He said all of this with his lips still maintaining a wide smile - how the hell he can talk about such unfortunate incidents with more than obvious glee is beyond my realms of comprehension.

Sure it sounds unfortunate to anyone else but not to me: We had only just met and so far, this guy had succeeded on getting on my nerves. As far as I could care, being ejected from his ship sounds like he got what he deserved.

"Anyway" Xerxes said "I've got to overcome this hurtle and get back into business! I'm a Rogue Trader and no Rogue Trader will ever stop trading when encountered with a setback such as this! I must find a spaceship and return to the galaxy, to start again form scratch!!"

I mentally cursed – Great, there go my hopes of getting off this rock.

Worse still, I now have the presence of this annoying sod to deal with.

Can't say I blame his crew for wanting to revolt against him.

And then he said it:

"So, can you tell me where the nearest Imperial settlement is?"

I groaned.

"That's not a proper answer" the former Rogue Trader captain said. "I need to know where the nearest Imperial settlement is, man! I can't continue my business in the middle of this jungle!"

"Listen" I said "I don't think you understand our current situation here"

"Oh come on!" Xerxes retorted. "You're a human! And since you're a human, and one whom is speaking Imperial Gothic, there must be some sort of outpost in the middle of the jungle!"

"How can you be sure I'm not some savage?" I countered.

"The fact that you haven't tried to kill me yet" the Rogue Trader said, his face growing amused with the thought of this notion.

_Don't be so sure buddy_ I thought.

"Listen to me" I said. "This planet is an Ork World! And one that's beyond the borderlines of Imperial space! I'm only the human and that's because I arrived here by accident!"

Xerxes blinked, his facial expression one of thoughtfulness. Sensing a degree of understanding I began pushing him further into the right direction:

"I'm only here because I crash-landed on this rock! My escape pod was ruined in the crash meaning I'm well and truly stuck here!"

But it didn't take long before he began chuckling at this notion.

"That's a good one" he chuckled. "Quite a tale! Standard on an Ork world far beyond the Imperium! I couldn't have come up with a better one myself!"

"What?" I growled.

"I must admit old chap" Xerxes chuckled "You certainly have an incredible imagination!"

I ground my teeth in frustration.

"Tell me" I inquired "Do you mean to tell me that I'm making this all up?"

"You can't be serious, that's for sure!"

"Come on, don't tell me these Ork corpses don't provide a subtle clue"

"Well I figured that since they're in this jungle, they must be fighting a guerrilla war against the Imperial settlements across the planet."

My eyes widened in disbelief as my brain struggled to comprehend this rather warped sense of logic.

What type of moron is this guy?!

I felt like grabbing him by the collar and smashing some sense into him….

But considering that he was the first human I had seen since arriving to this miserable rock, my heart simply wasn't in it. Instead, I sighed in exasperation and turned away.

Little did I know that this day would inspire the most infuriating of partnerships that I have ever experienced in this universe……..

In hindsight, perhaps I would've been better filling him with lead there and then….

* * *

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	8. Trader

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Eight

As I began moving away from the newly-created crash site, Xerxes cleared his throat.

"I see!" I heard him say "You're taking me to the nearest Imperial settlement eh? About time you start seeing things my way! Yeah, I knew you would come round sooner or later!"

"Are you listening to me?!" I shouted back. "We're the only humans on this planet! We're standard here! There are no Imperial settlements anywhere on this rock save for a population strictly made up of Orks!"

"Yeah, whatever you say old chap!"

I didn't turn around but I could still sense that he seemed unwilling to heed to my reasoning. He also seemed oblivious to my annoyance, completely unaware of the frustration he was turning out to be and indeed unprepared to listen to whatever I was trying so hard to tell him. Yet, at the same time, he seemed quite delighted with finding some human company.

And perhaps that I've been here longer than he has, perhaps I should be grateful that I have met someone who is both a human and unwilling to kill me.

But did this someone really have to the most annoying bozo this side of Mars?!

"Anyway" Xerxes said "I do believe you haven't introduced yourself to me."

_There's reason for that_ I thought.

"Come on" he went on. "What's with the silent treatment? I told you my name – and the least you can do is return the favour"

_What favour?_ I thought

When I still refused to say something he, much to my chagrin, began rattling on even more:

"Part of the Imperial Guard, are you?"

I blinked – then it occurred to me: he must have seen the tattoo of the Imperial Eagle that had been inscribed onto my shoulder (I'm surprised that tattoo didn't get removed once I had been banished to the penal legion. I guess it was going to be removed once I arrived in to those damned ranks).

I still didn't see any reason to answer him though.

"What planet were you from? Catachan? I thought so: You looked like a Catachan soldier to me. I was there once myself, dropping of some gear to an employer. I didn't like it there: That jungle was creepy what with malevolent plants and giant carnivorous lizards! I can tell you, I was glad to get out of there!"

I mentally cursed – am I doomed to wander around this jungle listening to this imbecile waffle on and on?! Talk about the cruelty of fate - I can bet the God-Emperor is having a right laugh at the moment!

"So who or what did you fight against when you were in the Imperial Guard?" the Rogue Trader went on. "Did you kill lot's of aliens? Eldar? I certainly enjoy trading with the Eldar. They are certainly difficult to get along with but they have the most wonderful items to trade with. I wish, on the few times that I met them, that they shared more of their wonderful creations! I heard that they make the most wondrous wines in the universe!"

Trading with the Eldar? Why does the one combination of the words bull and shit come to mind?

I still remained silent (would he really want to know what was currently going on my mind?) but he didn't seem put off by this at all. Instead he continued rattling on and on:

"Did you fight against the forces of Chaos? Oh, they are right bastards they are. I certainly had my fair share of Chaos Space Marine pirates whom stormed aboard my ship to raid my goods!"

_When you say that it makes me wish those pirates killed you when they had the chance_ I thought.

"Personally I don't like journeying near the Eye of Terror. There are so many creepy entities circling around there! And the mere sight of it is certainly a ghastly sight indeed! I can tell you it's enough to send me turning around and damning all thoughts of ever setting foot in there!"

_If you don't shut up, I'll have no complaints with sending you to the Eye of Terror!_

But alas, Xerxes kept on with his prattling:

"A friend told me that he went in there and found so many planets! He said that they were saturated with the power of Chaos that they were deformed in a horribly unnatural manner! They were populated with strange buildings, hideous creatures and nightmarish trees that they couldn't have possibly existed elsewhere! My friend managed to do conduct his business but he was out of there as soon as possible! He didn't say much of his single adventure within the Eye of Terror but whatever happened in there was enough to frighten him into never speaking of it again"

My mouth evolved into a sneer that, thankfully, went unnoticed by Xerxes. I had just found two things wrong with that anecdote that he gave me: Firstly, his claim of the Eye of Terror consisting of planets seems extremely difficult to believe: Everyone within the Imperium knows that that place is the home of daemons. If anything that wasn't of Chaos origin dared enter that corner of the Universe, they would immediately be torn to pieces. How anyone got in there, seen something and got out unscathed seems preposterous.

And secondly, I also find it hard to believe that someone like Xerxes had friends within the circle of Rogue Trading.

Makes me wish he followed the lead of his friend and speak much less.

"So anyway, when those Chaos Space Marines came on board, I had to gather my crew together to defend my cargo and drive them off! I can tell you those Marines can sure take beating within that power armour! And you only have a lasgun to defend yourself!"

I raised an eyebrow at this. Okay, now Xerxes really must be lying: I've used the standard issue of Imperial lasgun and, whilst they aren't the best firearm in the universe, they are the most reliable in getting the job done. And having been trained to use such a weapon I can say for a fact that they aren't reliable enough to penetrate something as strong as Space Marine power armour.

"Of course" he went on "Being an Imperial guardsman I guess you would all about lasguns, right?"

I had to give this guy credit: he's certainly going to a lot of effort to start a conversation – but in all honesty I really have neither the time nor the patience for such a tosser. Hey, it's tough, but just because we're the only humans on this planet doesn't mean I have to enjoy his company

As such, I continued with my silent treatment.

Hopefully he would take hint (in all honesty, he should've by now).

"Still being silent eh?" he inquired.

_You mean you've only just noticed?_ I thought

"Come on, surely you've got a tongue in there?"

_Yes I do - only it chooses not be as active as yours_

"Well if you still won't say anything, I may as well tell you all about myself!"

I mentally cursed. I wasn't liking the sounds of this at all.

"Yeah, I was born into a rather distinguished trading family. My father was the captain of a long-lasting Rogue Trader ship that travelled from one end of the universe to the other. He even assisted Lord Solar Macaroth at one point! So naturally I was expected to continue with the family business and become the captain of a Rogue Trader ship. Then one day…."

He never got to finish his sentence – I did it for him in the form of a brutal blow to the jaw.

Xerxes' vocal chords went silent as he fell down and landed flat on his back.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, I know it seemed cruel to deck him like that but really, he just didn't know when to shut up.

I then turned my back on him and walked off.

Thank the God-Emperor that I shut him up. It wasn't just the idea that he would draw ever Ork in the jungle onto us (like flies to shit) but really – crapping on like that would drive any sane person bonkers!

I kept walking. The fact that I was leaving him behind didn't bother me in the slightest.

I didn't bother to look over my shoulder. I knew well enough that he was pretty much out cold.

What I gave him was a sample punch from my years spent within the Imperial Guard. It was one punch which I used quite well over the years and which has never failed me. As such, he should regain consciousness within a half an hour or so.

Hopefully by then I would be long gone.

But then again, was smacking Xerxes out and leaving him there the right thing to do?

Who cares?! What could possibly happen to him out there?!

Well, the Orks may find him….

Great! Then they could kill him and put him out of my misery.

Of course should that happen I would then be the last remaining human on this planet.

Dammit, why am I am I so bothered by this pain this arse?! Pure and simple: he is an annoyance and I care little if he gets killed out there.

But in any case, his arrival was purely by chance. Who knows how much longer I would have to wait until I see another human on this miserable rock?

My pace came to an immediate halt.

Considering how big that crash landing was, it wouldn't be long before many more green-skins come to investigate. And considering that Xerxes has been knocked unconscious, the Orks will find him and won't have any hesitation in breaking every bone in his body.

But then again, at least that thought gives me the guarantee that I'll be permanently rid of the annoying sod.

But what type of Imperial Guardsman leaves a man behind?

What the hell – I'm not in the Imperial Guard any more! Besides, the types who do that are the one's who are concerned with their own survival! In this universe, it is everyone for themselves!

Of course he was only staying me with the knowledge that we were the only humans on the planet and we should therefore stick together.

But hey, I would rather take an Ork than stay with such an annoying prick day after day.

But, if the tone of voice was anything to go by, he really believed that I could get him out of his current situation…..

Just then, the air was penetrated with a distinctive bestial roar.

I ground my teeth. The Orks have arrived at the crash site.

My brow furrowed.

Finally I gave in:

I turned around and ran back to the crash site, quoting every expletive I knew through my gritted teeth.

* * *

I stood at the edge of the crash site, peering out from behind one of the trees that were still standing. There, a short distance away, was Xerxes – he was still prostrate so he must still be unconscious. And towering above him was a group of huge Orks. They seemed rather curious about this latest arrival to this planet.

I could count at least six of them. The odds didn't bother me that much – I have been on this planet long enough to conquer groups of these bastards and still come out on top (quite an impressive feat when one considers that the soul concern of the Orks is to grind their way across the galaxy, butchering all who stand in their path). And considering they hadn't noticed me yet, this places in the advantageous position of launching a surprise attack.

But I didn't leap in there straight away – instead I paused, surveying the scene with a curious eye. their initial reaction was rather surprising – instead of doing the normal Ork behaviour of killing and butchering everything in sight (hey they don't do that on this planet, they do it everywhere against everyone), they had yet to make any kind of attack on Xerxes' body – I guess there was a greater sense of satisfaction in fighting a hatred enemy when they are standing on their own two feet rather than butchering them when they were kissing the dirt.

However considering that this is an Ork world long overlooked by the Imperium there's that theory that the Orks have forgotten what a human looks like.

But enough of my theorising: in any case, the pause gives me the perfect opportunity to launch an attack on the stinking green-skins.

Again I looked out from behind the tree – The Orks will still standing around – only this time they had lost interest in Xerxes' body and were looking around. Several of the Orks moved towards the ruined escape pod. It seemed that they were more interested in surveying the damage created by the crash. And their diminutive brains had come to the conclusion that Xerxes was already dead – having already perished in the crash itself.

I blinked – this was rare occurrence. The Orks had no interest in combat! I had never seen anything like this before both here and in my time as a guardsman. And I knew that they would attack anything, as long as it was either made of metal or consisting of some kind of flesh. But now they seemed more interested in the noticing the devastation left by the crash – rather then plundering the escape pod or ravaging Xerxes' body.

Indeed, this was a rare occurrence.

Might as well celebrate then….

I dived out from behind my tree, both bolt pistols blazing.

The nearest Ork was several metres away. He copped a blaze of hot bolt shells that slammed into his forehead. As he plummeted to the clearing floor, he let out a ghastly death scream that collapsed into a rattle before silence.

A second Ork suddenly found his chest being penetrated numerous times from my opening volley. Staring the blood pouring from these freshly-created wounds, he suddenly raised a finger in my direction and bellowed his outrage. This was enough to make the remaining four aware of my presence.

Grasping their own bolt-guns, the Orks returned fire. Thinking quickly, I fell flat onto my face, firing my twin pistols as I went.

Of course, considering the skills Orks have with their crudely-made firearms, as well as the probability of them actually hitting something, I really had nothing to worry about. But hey, you can't take any chances - Particularly when the odds aren't in your favour.

Now flat on my stomach, I kept returning fire. The Orks stormed towards me, their axes raised above their heads in readiness for hand to hand combat.

It wasn't the brightest plans charging towards someone with the intention of engaging in hand-to hand-combat but it was the typical Ork instinct.

Hey, you've got to love an opponent who's continually predictable.

However, this wasn't the best of positions – It was out in the open and I was pretty much a sitting duck. Furthermore, lying here kind of presented the open invitation to try for boltgun target practice (not that I have any faith in the Ork's shooting ability but I wasn't really that keen on taking any chances).

The Orks continued their charge as I continued lying down here and firing. Sure I had an advantage over them in tactical prowess but I needed to move. The only question was when….

Suddenly, the decision was made for me: Out of the sky came an object: It consisted of a short metal rod attached to a circular object.

The object landed an arm's length in front of me: I blinked at it – but it didn't take long before my brain began registering the distinctive sense of alarm.

GRENADE!!!

Immediately, I leapt to my feet and sprinted from the Ork stikk-bomb. In that instant I forget all about my cover and the probability of the orks hitting me with their firepower. All thoughts were instead dedicated to escaping that nasty explosive.

I ran back towards the tree I'd started from – It seemed a short distance away but getting there under this pressure made the task of getting there seem like a lifetime.

I could hear the brutish grunts of the Orks behind me and I could feel the hot lead of their bolt shells zinging past my ear. Of course they were all off target but there's always that nasty thought of the chance that one bullet, just one mere bullet, could actually hit…..

I was merely seconds away from the stikk-bomb when it detonated. Shards of metal came hurtling my way accompanied by the rancid stench of burning explosive. Instinct screamed at me to seek cover – noticing the borderline of the clearing being within feet away (and closing), I dived towards the best possible chance of cover that I could find.

Slamming my into the undergrowth of the trees, I came crashing down onto the various tree roots scattered across the forest floor.

I groaned at this uncomfortable landing.

Dammit, considering that I get shit when I'm trying to save someone, the bozo must be worth saving.

I immediately cast my gaze over my shoulder to see the four remaining Orks charging towards me, looking as furious as ever and eager to spill some blood.

This placed me in nasty position: The fact that they were charging this way, gave me little time to get behind the long-sought after cover and take them on under my terms.

I would have to take them on right here and right now.

Still, even this combat is not under terms I desire, I still can't let the damn green-skins win.

Rolling onto my back, I gripped my two bolt pistols and opened fire on the advancing Orks.

The one closest to me went down in a hail of fire. Another joined him, as his flesh was torn to shreds in a mass of pistol shells and green blood.

The remaining two kept on charging. Somehow they managed to escape the hot lead I kept delivering. Hey when faced with a pair of huge maniacs charging toward them whilst bellowing at the top of their lungs, I guess anyone will freeze up in such a situation.

But that's not to say the Ork's targeting was any better – sure they both carried boltguns that were ten times better then the humble bolt pistol, but the boltguns in question were shoddy Ork construct that weren't really on the same scale of reliability when compared the firearms of the standard Imperial manufacture. Furthermore, the boltguns were being fired in random directions without any consideration being applied to aiming at, let alone actually hitting, the target.

Hey, you've got to love that typical Orkish battle instinct. If they just concentrated on the art of combat rather than letting their enthusiasm getting the better of them, I would be long dead by now.

My finger kept on the two triggers until I heard the distinctive sound of two empty clicks betraying the twin empty ammo cartridges.

Cursing richly I then rolled out of the way and out of the way. Behind the cover of a tree trunk and now upon my stomach, I reached into my coat and pulled out a pair of fresh bolt pistol cartridges. Fumbling my way with one of the pistols, I immediately discarded the empty cartridge and proceeded to load a fresh one.

Perspiration broke out across my forehead as my fingers worked towards loading up this weapon. With the Orks charging, this meant I had little time to spare.

I grit my teeth – that blasted Xerxes had better be worth saving!

But time was not on my side: I had one pistol loaded and ready and was nearing completion of loading up the other when an unwelcome weight came crashing down onto my back.

My blood turned cold as bestial grunting began emitting from up above.

I looked up to see a bucket-sized jaw and two hate-filled red eyes glaring down at me.

* * *

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	9. Ally

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Nine

The Ork peered at me, before throwing his boltgun away.

I grinned sheepishly at the Ork.

"What a surprise seeing you here eh?"

I don't know whether to not he understood human tongue but if his expression was anything to go by, it seemed he picked up quite easily on my mockery.

He then discarded his bolt-gun. Why he did such a thing has since bothered me: Why didn't he just use it to blow my head off there and then? Being at such a close range it would have been impossible for him to miss, even for an ork, and he had all the opportunity in the world. And using such a powerful weapon at that distance, there would be no chance in hell of him not killing me.

But no, he didn't see such an opportunity, favouring instead, to grip his crude axe and wave it above his head.

However, such a choice would prove to be his undoing: For on this planet, survival is everything – you must stay alive by doing whatever necessary. And by waving his weapon in readiness of the kill, gave me the perfect opportunity. I then pulled out my single loaded bolt pistol from underneath me and opened fire. At such a close range I couldn't miss (hey, if that green-skin can't see a good opportunity when its right in front of him, then the least I could do was show him).

The bullet struck the Ork straight in the middle of his forehead and buried its way deep into his cranium. The Ork thus was sent off his feet and tumbling backwards. The weight was slowly lifted from my back and the green-skin's body collapsed in a heap.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Yep, that's how things work around here – You have to do whatever necessary in the name of survival. If an opportunity rears its head then you take it!

I pushed the corpse aside, and got up onto my feet. I leaned forward and reached for my other bolt pistol and it's still unloaded cartridge – It was still there lying there.

In a crouching position, I then reached forward and picked up the cartridge and the pistol.

It was then and there that I realised I had forgotten something.

Something that came in the shape of a huge green jaw, a mass of stinking green flesh and pair of hate-filled red yes.

It was the other Ork. He had finally got caught up to me and, seeing me like this, he decided to find it necessary to ram his face as close as possible to my own.

I blinked as his nostrils flared – taking in and out the air in short hard bursts, betraying the typical Orkish hatred for all humans.

(Isn't it wonderful to be appreciated?)

And for a several moments, total silence descended between us. Both of us possessed a common hatred for the other but neither was willing to make the first move: He had his axe close at hand I still had my second gun in my hand. He could smash my head open if I raised my hand to fire. If he dared try to cut me down there and then, I could have an open window to slug a shell into his stomach.

Both of us had the means of killing the other but neither was willing to let the other gain an advantage in this stand-off.

But little did the Ork know but I already had the advantage: He didn't see to notice the second bolt pistol that currently resided in my other hand and out of his sight.

I smiled a sly smile.

"Did I kill your friend back there?" I sneered, my head jerking in the direction to the fresh corpse nearby.

The Ork roared back at me, clearly annoyed and certainly willing to express it.

But in doing so, he didn't see me slip my hand, with bolt pistol contained within, underneath his chin. Slowly, the bolt pistol barrel drifted up it's up against the Ork's chin.

I myself, was still being blasted by the ferocity of the Ork's roar – Being confronted with a hurricane of phlegm, bad breathe and animalistic battle lust certainly wasn't a comforting experience but I cared little – one click away and this bastard will be rid of my life forever.

Eventually the roar halted – I looked up to see the Ork's expression. Judging by it, the green-skin must've felt the cold steel of the bolt pistol that recently came underneath his chin.

I gave him a further second to consider the situation before pulling the trigger.

The Ork's head exploded in a mass of green blood and torn flesh. Pieces of bone can flying out from the where was once a cranium and a pair of reddened eyeballs came hurtling in my direction. An enormous jawbone sporting the most colossal of teeth came falling to the ground.

I saw the ghastly sight of the Ork's head exploding evolve before me but I didn't flinch. I had seen other life forms be torn apart in a similar fashion many times before – and they were fellow humans being cut down in the line of fire. And they didn't really deserve it as much as that damned greens-skin.

It gave me a sick sense of satisfaction to see the head got up like that – Hey they are all Orks. It's not like the rest of the universe is going to miss them anytime soon.

But anyway, back to this moron Xerxes……

I struggled to my feet and strode over the two freshly killed Orks. I then made my way out of the jungle and out across the clearing, towards the only other human on this planet.

Once arrived to the prostrate Rogue Trader I then studied him – he was still out cold form the punch I gave him but he didn't show any other obvious signs of damage. I guess I must have arrived at exactly the right time, before the Orks could do something to him.

But anyway, now was not the time to hang around. Considering the loud explosion from the grenade and sound of gunfire being exchanged, it seemed likely that another group of Orks would have heard them and would already be on their way to investigate.

Grinding my teeth, I knelt down and picked up the still out-cold Xerxes. I then hoisted him onto my back. He didn't seem that heavy which was just as well – I needed to get out of here and I needed to do so quickly.

Using all the strength I could muster I then headed off back into the jungle.

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, I continued carrying around the useless sod of a Rogue Trader. In that time I had manage to cover a great deal of distance from the crash site. Miraculously neither of use had any encounters whatsoever with the Orks. This certainly was a surprise considering the massive population of Orks upon this rock and the knowledge of experience that it was nearly impossible to go more than an hour without running into a group of them. And I was currently running (blindly) towards a location of possible safety (even though such a prospect seemed highly unlikely on this miserable rock) with a huge weight resting upon my back!

I had lost track of the time I had spent carrying the Rogue Trader around – therefore I had no idea how long I had been going before I could feel my strength drift away from me – All of a sudden, Xerxes felt as heavy as a Space Marine Lascannon Power Pack (I've seen such things before and I swear that no ordinary human has a hope in hell of ever lifting one of those damn things).

And once again, I pondered on the ever persistent question on whether or not rescuing this damn Xerxes was worth the trouble…

But what I found bothersome about that previous encounter was that the Orks back there had grenades. This was the first time I had ever seen one of the green-skins use such a thing. Needless to say, it certainly was a surprise – I thought they just stormed around this planet with their axes and boltguns – it never struck me that they had access to explosives, let alone grenades.

The thought that they may have explosives was really unsettling. I thought it would be easy to wage a guerrilla war against an alien life-form whose only perception on combat is to charge towards the enemy and pulverise anything dumb enough to stand in its way. Being a human meant that I had access to a full range of tactics that stretched beyond that Orkish combat perception – This would've surely put me in a position of an intellectual advantage. After all, I wouldn't have survived this long if it didn't….

But the knowledge that the greenskins had access to grenades, made fighting this never-ending guerrilla war somewhat harder. My usual tactic was to take out the Orks from well-concealed positions, one at time, before they could come to the realisation of what was going on. However, with the Orks possessing grenades it now means that they have access to a weapon that can create massive explosion – consequently, should such an explosive be thrown, all the cover which I would hide behind could then be blown away in the blink of an eye.

The tables have turned – the Orks seem to be in possession of a weapon that could both ruin my guerrilla plans and kill me. They now have a potentially dangerous ploy where I once held the complete and entire advantage.

Oh well – It's not like I'm afraid of dying. Ya gotta go sometime and dying in combat sounds more appealing then dying at the hands of an Imperial firing squad.

Just then, I came across a small stream.

I then lowered Xerxes from off the top of my back and set him down beside the stream, onto a dry portion of the jungle floor. I then knelt down and tasted the water (I cared little whether or not it was drinkable or not – And considering that I've always been doing this I don't see now being a good time to start being concerned with such details). It seemed good enough for me so I cupped my hands to get a handful and splashed it on my face.

Refreshing indeed….

I then looked towards Xerxes – he was still out cold. My brow furrowed. I was through carrying him around – My muscles were already growing tired with hauling around such a weight, he was slowing me down in pace and being unconsciousness made him more of a labiality and me more open to an ambush.

Besides, he would be more use to me if he was awake and on his own feet.

I looked at the stream and then back at Xerxes. An evil grin formed across my face.

Getting to my feet, I then strode over to his prostrate form. This was soon followed by a punch across his face. I paused to allow a sense of the sweetest satisfaction to cruise into my well-being. This was then followed by another punch across the face. And another soon after.

Hey, if this doesn't wake him up, I don't know what will. Besides, I had to risk my arse to save him and I didn't really want to anyway. The least I could do was display my appreciation.

Eventually, the Rogue Trader's eyes groggily opened. He began mumbling something as the blows get coming – I guess that would be a good enough time to stop then….

"Hey, what's going on?" he mumbled, his speech slurred and his words hardly decipherable.

"Ah, you're awake" I said. I ceased the punching and walked away from him.

My ears detected the sounds of Xerxes getting up off the jungle floor.

"You again" he mumbled. "What had happened? Where are we?"

My eyes hardened. He seemed unaware of what had happened – or least he doesn't seem able to recall it.

Well in that case, I had better choose my words carefully.

"We were both ambushed by a group of Orks" I said. "You were struck down from behind and I had to kill them all myself"

"You did that?" the Rogue Trader inquired. He seemed impressed.

"You could say that" I shrugged. If that is what he wants to believe, than that's fine by me.

"I guess I owe you my life then" Xerxes grinned.

I sighed - well looks like I will never be able get rid of him. Now, I am well and truly stuck with him.

Oh well, at least some company is welcome after spending so long in the presence of an exclusively Orkish population.

"So tell me" he went on. "Can you tell me where the nearest Imperial settlement is?"

I sighed a second time. He was still unaware that there were only Orks on this miserable rock and he was still convinced that there was an Imperial settlement somewhere.

I didn't answer – I didn't even turn around to look at him. I just sat down beside the stream, my eyes focusing only one the running water.

After a pause, I head him speak again, this time, his voice possessing more emotion than I had ever heard him use before:

"We're the only humans on this planet aren't we?"

At the mention of this, I looked over my shoulder at Xerxes – I then noticed the expression on his face was one where it had been hit by the crushing hammer of realisation.

"'Fraid we are" I answered.

"There is no one on here except us and so many Orks, right?"

"Precisely"

"We stranded here?"

"That we are"

"And we have no ship?"

"Doesn't that suck?"

"And no one knows we're here?'

I clapped my hands in a mocking manner.

"Well done genius. Want an award?"

"Being an Imperial Guardsman you must have some sort of contact with the superiors?" Xerxes asked, his voiced now getting clogged with desperation.

"I would if I could"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"You see, my status in the Imperial Guard has been revoked" I said. "I'm criminal that was charged with the crime of desertion. I was on my way to the Penal Legion when the ship I was on was attacked by the Dark Eldar. I managed to escape in a pod and I landed here."

"But if you're a criminal, then it's likely that the forces of the Imperium will come looking for you" the Rogue Trader theorised.

At this suggestion I laughed a bitter laugh.

"Who the hell would miss a criminal like me?" I sneered. "I was heading for an execution! If they wanted to get rid of me they would've sent a rescue crew by now

"But no, the Imperium cares little for the criminals within their universe. If anything, they would've lifted a finger when they became aware of the raid."

I then turned away.

"Besides, I doubt they would've found me out here"

"What do you mean by that?" Xerxes inquired.

This made me look back over my shoulder at him. Seems he was not aware of where in the universe this planet was located.

I paused, wondering how I should tell him this. Being out beyond the fringes of the Imperium is certainly not an ideal position to be and it may be difficult for him to take.

But then again, he had to find this fact out for himself sooner or later.

"No doubt you're just become aware that we are both on an Ork World" I said. "But brace yourself because there's worse come: This planet is beyond the borderlines of the Imperium."

At the mention of this, Xerxes' face paled. Obviously, this wasn't the most ideal thing in the world to hear.

"Hate to tell you this" I went on "But we're both stuck on this miserable rock and no one knows we're here!"

"You're lying" he said softly.

"What's that?"

"You're a liar!" he went on, his tone of voice gradually evolving into a growl with each word stated. "What you're saying simply cannot be true at all!"

"You believe that?"

"Because it is the most plausible theory, correct?"

"Compared to what?"

"This is a planet occupied by Imperial forces that are situated in a small outpost that is currently under consistent attack from the green-skins who also occupy this planet!"

"You call that a more likely situation with this planet?!" I yelled. "I thought you had just become convinced that we were the only humans on this planet!"

"Well, I certainly don't find what you've told me convincing in the slightest!"

"Believe what you like" I snapped back. "But you can't hide from the reality of the situation"

"I refuse to believe it!" the Rogue Trader yelled, getting to his feet.

"Keep it down will you?" I retorted, unfazed by the growing tensions. "You'll bring every Ork for miles down upon us both!"

Xerxes glared at me.

"We can't be out of range from the Imperial space" he said firmly. "That doesn't explain how we are the only humans on this planet"

I open my mouth to speak but before I could, the Rogue Trader reached for his belt and pulled out something that looked like a device of some kind.

I could feel myself growing curious about this new entity. I had never seen anything like before. Judging from it's manufacture, it didn't seem to be of Imperial origin. It made me wonder where Xerxes had gotten it from – He must've stolen it from somewhere because I still don't find this substantial evidence to support his claim of being a Rogue Trader.

He began fiddling around with this device, his facial expression one of complete and utter exasperation.

"What the hell are you doing?" I inquired.

"What does it looking like I'm doing?!' he retorted.

"Messing around with some weird contraption" I said, my voice dripping with the lack of conviction to his words.

Xerxes sighed in exasperation and held up his device.

"You see this?" he snapped. "This is a communication device that I had acquired on my many travels across the galaxy! I originally acquired through dealings with the Tau!"

My brow furrowed – but then again, I should know by now that whatever emerges from out of Xerxes' mouth are the words of a professional liar.

Hey, this guy could make a superb Rogue Trader. He certainly had the mouth for one.

Xerxes continued fiddling around with this device. After pressing a few buttons, he then lifted it above his head and tried waving it around.

"What are you doing?" I replied in exasperation.

"I'm trying to get this damn thing to work!" the Rogue Trader replied. "I had it specifically rigged to detect any other signal in range!"

"Really…." I replied, with sarcasm large enough to drive a Space Marine Land Raider through.

"Exactly!" Xerxes declared proudly. If he seemed aware of my lack of conviction, he certainly didn't show it. "By selecting a certain location within the universe, of any size and diameter, I shall send a sign of transmission to any Imperial transceiver so they can come by and pick us up!"

"Yeah, whatever you reckon pal" I sneered.

Paying no attention whatsoever to my snide comments, Xerxes continued waving around his strange little device.

I sighed. This was going to take a while…..

At that point, my stomach growled – telling me that I was better off finding some food rather than listening to this moron. Of course with such a prospect I needed little convincing: I then headed into the jungle, looking for some kind of food.

Don't why I should bother myself with the well-being of this annoyance of a companion but he's a human and human company is better than none.

And as long as he's not trying to blow my head off, then I may as well do the same for him.

As much as it pains me to do so.

* * *

About half an hour later, I returned to where I had left Xerxes. I carried some fruit which I had managed to find. This was a bizarre fruit to look at: It was yellow and dotted with giant brown chunks that stuck out like craters. I had been living on these since my arrival to this rock and whilst they looked strange, they were surprisingly edible and quite tasty at that.

The prospect that the fruit may be poisonous didn't bother me much – after all, I had been living on them for a while now and if they were poisonous I surely would've dropped dead by now.

Xerxes was in a seated position with his head buried in his hands. In front of him, was the receiver that he had been obsessing over.

It didn't take the powers of an Eldar Farseer to sense that his plan of trying to contact an Imperial ship had failed. Furthermore, the realisation of failure brought with it the crushing thought that the planet was situate exactly as I said.

It certainly was an interesting sight to see the Rogue Trader defeated like this. Already he had presented me with an image of complete and utter confidence that walked hand in hand with unbridled cheerfulness. Therefore, seeing him like this was certainly disarming – a man hit with the brutal sense of complete and utter defeat.

Breaking the tension, I coughed – this was enough to make Xerxes raise his head.

I blinked – the despair and hopelessness of the situation was written all over his face.

I could try and break him out of such a wretched mood…

But that wouldn't be me at all.

"I tried to tell you" I said.

"How can you say that?!" he yelled "How can you remain so cool-headed when you are trapped on a planet of hostile Orks with no hope of escape or survival?!"

"I told you" I said, not flinching in anyway whatsoever – even confronted with such exasperation "I am a convicted criminal. I only arrived here by accident. Being on this planet, no one knows that I'm here nor would they even care. I am only here because staying alive and fighting sounds more appealing than the executioner's block"

Xerxes blinked before his eyes grew angry once again.

"That's a twisted philosophy" he snapped. "Life is worth living! I wouldn't dare throw my life away in such a pointless pursuit! If I were you I would be finding any way possible to leave this miserable planet!"

"Why would I do that?!" I retorted. "I am dead if I stay here and I'm dead if I leave. That doesn't leave me with a lot of options.

"Do you honestly think the Imperium will welcome me back with open arms?! Of course not! At least by staying here, I can survive a little longer and delay my own death!"

"What if you escape….."

"I keep tryna tell you – Its not going to happen"

"Hear me out" Xerxes growled. "Hypothetically, what if you escape and live the life of an outlaw? You could see the galaxy beyond the reach of the Imperium; you could see so many worlds without any rules to follow whatsoever; you could…."

"Live the life like that of a Rogue Trader?" I interjected.

Xerxes immediately fell silent.

"Forget it" I sneered. "I may be a convicted criminal but I'm still an Imperial Guardsman. And I have no intention of running away. Not when there's a battle to be fought."

Xerxes opened his mouth again - No doubt to deliver another diatribe of protests in the flaws of my philosophy. But I was anticipating such a move: I immediately tossed one of the fruit to him, which he caught in both hands.

"Hungry?" I asked.

He blinked before examining the fruit with a baffled expression.

"This is edible, right?"

I didn't answer straight away. Instead I took a bite out of my own piece of fruit.

"Sure seems edible to me" I answered, my mouth full.

Xerxes stared at me long and hard before giving it – he took a bite and screwed his face up in disgust.

I chuckled.

"You'll get used it" I grinned "After all, you now have all the time in the world to do so."

And with that I turned and headed off into the jungle.

"Hey!" Xerxes called. "Where're you going?"

I shrugged.

"To find my destiny I guess"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Who cares?" I called back "It's not like I have anywhere else to go"

"So you would gladly through away your life like that?"

"Why do you care?" I shot back, my feet still moving.

"Because I refuse to abide to the idea of giving up!" he shouted.

This made me stop, my ears sensing the passion that had just ignited within his voice.

"In my whole entire life, I have never once admitted to defeat!" he went on "And I refuse to start now! As such, I am disgusted by the fact that you want to throw away your life in such a needless manner! I would rather live with this hand that fate has granted me! If I'm going to be standard on this planet, then I would rather live the constant undying help that someone would want to rescue me!"

I turned around to face him, my eyes suspicious.

"You're not really a Rogue Trader are you?" I inquired.

"What?"

"What type of Rogue Trader would place his life over his own cargo?"

He sighed – one that could only be equated with defeat.

"You are certainly the perceptive one" he said.

_Perceptive?_ I thought _I only noticed the blindingly obvious_

"Yes, I was on a Rogue Trader ship but I wasn't the captain – I was only one of the crew"

"Let me guess – you were the cleaner of the latrines?" I said, jokingly

Xerxes didn't reply – instead he merely turned his back to me and bowed his head.

"So - that story of you being overthrown by a mutinous crew was just a lie, wasn't it?"

"It was" he murmured – softly but loud enough for me to hear "My ship was being attacked by a ship from the Imperial Navy. So, whilst my ship was being boarded and my crewmates were being executed, I fled into the depths of the ship. I broke into the captain's quarters and stole this uniform. Then I ran to the ship's escape pods looking for one to escape in and…. The next thing I knew I had somehow wound up here"

"Hold on" I said "If the Imperial navy was attacking your ship…"

"…Then I was on the run"

"Meaning, you're not from the ship of a Rogue Trader"

"But from a ship of a pirate" Xerxes finished

"So, it would seem that you're no more a fugitive than I am" I said.

Marvellous – it seems the more the more I hang around this bozo, the more I am going to discover that we both have interest in common.

Just what I didn't want to hear.……

"I just wanted to find something more" he said. "I wanted to find something more than being a lowly latrine cleaner on a pirate ship. I wanted to see the universe and have many adventures. I wanted to have something more than being a mere latrine cleaner.

"And as far as I'm concerned, being standard on this planet full of Orks seem far more interesting than being on a rusty spaceship"

"So, all that talk about being a Rogue Trader was just an act" I said. "You were just hoping to act like one when you arrived here because you thought you could convince anyone that you were somebody.

"What a shame you are stuck on this planet then! Nowhere near the Imperium and being one of a human population made of two!"

"At least it's a second chance!" he shot back, casting a wrathful gaze back over his shoulder. "It may not be the best of second chances but at least it's better than nothing!"

"And let me guess, you're going to make the best of this second chance?" I sneered.

"Such as it is, yes" Xerxes said. "As such I would rather live in optimism than give up and welcome death"

I sighed. He certainly had a point there…..

"Do what you like" I muttered.

And with that I turned around and walked off.

But I hadn't gone far before I heard running footsteps from behind me. This was soon followed by a certain voice.

"Well, seeing as we're both stuck on this planet, we should stick together! After all, being the only humans here we share a common interest – and together, we should stand a greater chance of survival. After all, safety is better than numbers as they always say!"

I continued on my way into the jungle – but from behind me, the consistent ramblings from the idiot continued:

"But even though I may have come from such humble beginning, I have a thirst for adventure! I hope to go across the galaxy and see all many wonderful before me!"

"Yeah, yeah" I muttered. 


	10. Intruder

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Ten

And so that was how I became acquainted with this useless imbecile of a Rogue Trader. And how he managed to start hanging around me.

Much against my will.

Still it's not all bad news: He's really at his most efficient in the battle field, picking off the Orks with his lasgun and keeping my back covered.

However I could do without him constantly yelling at me whenever a plan fails.

Usually due to me making the sudden decision to do things my way.

And bickering over to distribute all the plundered loot.

But in the end I can't complain.

Too much

I could fill him with lead any time I wanted to but the only thing that stopped me was the fact that he was a human. And any human company is welcome.

Particularly when one is stranded on an Ork world far beyond the reaches of the Imperium.

Still it made me wonder: If another human had arrived here, would any more follow in his wake?

It seemed unlikely: If the odds of a second human turning up on this planet could be best described as slim, then what are the odds of a third?

Of course, little did I know that that day the answer to that question would be answered.

But not in the most ideal way….

* * *

The day after encountering the Orks certainly began in a typical way: It was just another day of evading the greenskins, attacking them with guerrilla tactics, scavenging for anything we could use, covering up any evidence of our presence and doing whatever it takes to stay alive.

Yes, just another day.

But who would've guessed that what began like any other would turn out to be something completely different….

At that stage, I had no idea how long I had been travelling with the Rogue Trader. Each day seemed no different than the last and I certainly saw little point in keeping tally of the passing weeks and months.

It would be a likely assumption that time had become irrelevant since I had accepted the fate that I was stranded on this miserable rock and there was nothing I could do about it.

But the more likely answer was that the passage of time seemed to go on much longer within the company of Xerxes.

And so, yet again, I found myself wandering through across the surface of the planet, my head having the discomfort of receiving every word of nonsense that the Rogue Trader dared to utter.

Presently, we were both traversing through one of the more raised areas of the planet. We were both moving through a rocky outcrop that was tall enough to challenge to top of the tree-tops and offer a degree of vision above and beyond the jungle (even if the view was pretty much greenery, with a handful of mountains, as far as the eye could see). Below us was an enormous clearing which was also home to large lake.

At the moment Xerxes was telling me how he managed to pull off a daring rescue which had him saving tonnes of valuable supples from a horde of Tyranids.

"…..So picture this: I was surrounded by termagants, all of them bearing down at me at an extraordinary rate…."

You would think that having him aware of me knowing that he was a liar would be enough to shut him up. But having been stuck with this asshole for so long, I am far from convinced that nothing in the universe would make him cram it.

"…I had no where to run, nowhere to hide and the only weapon I had at my disposal was a laspistol. So I was left with little options except for calmly loaded my pistol and blasting those evolved abominations into next week!"

Still I had to give him credit – at least he understood the importance of keeping quiet when the Orks entered the general vicinity.

"….Within a manner of seconds, I had downed several of the bastards but they still kept coming…"

So far, whenever he heard that there were Orks nearby he would immediately shut up, ready his weapon and abide to the importance of silence in fighting under the rules of guerrilla warfare.

"………I fired bolt after bolt, until my pistol ran red-hot in my hand…."

But in that sense, it kind of makes me wish that more Ork patrols came our way.

Still, considering the current rate at how motor-mouth is going, it shouldn't take a lot before more Ork patrols rear their ugly faces in order to investigate.

"….the termagants still thundered forward – by now they had all gathered in a huge mass that swarm around me…."

Of course, I couldn't just say that we were under attack. Shutting Xerxes up was easy but keeping him that way was another matter entirely. If I interrupted his 'thrilling stories' by stating that we were encountering some Orks, he would therefore expect to see them within minutes. Should no Orks appear then his mind will grow bored and he'll immediately return to spinning his ridiculous story.

Unfortunately, as he was interrupted, he'll most likely return to the beginning and tell the whole thing again.

Only this time with completely different things happening.

"….So the situation grew to the point where I was relying on to the frag grenades that I had attached to my belt. I threw at the termagants one after the after in quick succession…."

I raised an eyebrow – funny, I thought he had no other weapon. Yet as with all the other 'thrilling stories' that the Rogue Trader had previously come up with, Xerxes had become so immersed with his own story that he now showed a blatant disregard to the facts previously established. Either he was making this up as he went or he was droning on and on simply because he loved the sound of his voice.

"…..Eventually it got to the point were several of them had got within several feet of me so I reached behind my back and drew my trusty power sword. I then charged into battle severing limbs left and right, driven by the determination of not letting those blasted Tyranids get within a foot of my precious cargo"

Or most likely both.

"….And so I fought, hatred burning within my veins as I downed one termagant after another, and building a massive hill of corpses in the process…."

I mentally cursed. How much longer do I have to put with this idiot rattling on?

Dammit, I wish something would come along that would take his mind of his incredibly inane stories.

Famous last words.

For at that moment, my ears pitched up the sound of a high pitched whine.

My brow furrowed. I hadn't heard anything like it since I had landed here.

It seemed distant at first but the more I grew towards this noise, the more I found myself identifying what it could've been.

My pace came to an immediate halt and my eyes widened in disbelief.

No. It wasn't possible.

The odds of something like this happening were so against my favour that it this occurrence couldn't possibly be happening!

Yet the more I grew towards the sound, my ears could detect where was coming from.

Xerxes noticed the change in my behaviour and quickly forget all about his preposterous story. He looked at me with a concerned gaze.

"What's the matter old man?" he asked.

"Can you hear that sound?" I asked.

"Hear what?"

"I swear it was the sound of a plasma engine roaring!"

To this Xerxes burst out laughing.

"That's ridiculous!" he chuckled. "If anything, I'd say you must be hearing things! You've been on this planet for too long!"

"I'm not hearing things dammit!" I retorted "I tell you, I heard something that sounded very much like an Imperial ship!"

"Yes and I'm the son of an Ogyrn" he retorted.

This comment made my pause – was this declaration another one of his lies or did it have an element of truth to it? In the end I guess I shouldn't really surprised if it turned out to be fact

Seeing the change of my expression, Xerxes must've guessed what I was thinking for he then let out a sigh of exasperation

"What you're suggesting is just absurd!" the Rogue Trader argued "If neither you nor myself have been on this planet for so long, without the knowledge of the Imperium then what are the chances of us being found right here and now!?"

I blinked at his all too sceptical gaze – but only for an all-too brief moment. For it didn't take me long before I caught sight of something.

Xerxes fixed me with a hardened gaze, his exasperated eyes revealing that he expected an answer.

"Do you honestly think that an Imperial ship would appear out of the blue simply like that!?" he growled, the scepticism written all over his face,

But I didn't pay any attention to him whatsoever. Looking past the Rogue Trader's shoulder I noticed a small speck emerge on the horizon.

However it didn't long since seeing the speck that it grew larger and larger with each passing nanosecond.

My brow furrowed.

Xerxes then realised I wasn't paying any attention to him and his expression grew even more exasperated.

"What's wrong now?" he demanded irritably.

"Uh…Xerxes?" I said "I think you may want to consider diving for your life…."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!?"

Suddenly the Rogue Trader paused – his facial expression growing with disbelief.

"I don't believe it!" Xerxes exclaimed "That sound….. You were right! There is a sound about and it sounds remarkably like an Imperial plasma engine!"

"You sure took long enough to detect it!" I snapped, nodding in his direction.

The Rogue Trader spun around to see something that resembled a small Imperial shuttle come roaring towards him at a rapid rate.

Xerxes screamed with terror as the shuttle loomed above him. And, the space of a split second, he dived out of the way and into safety.

I promptly did the same.

* * *

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	11. Shuttle

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Eleven

The scream of numerous rocket engines propelling several tons of steel through the air plunged through the air above me. In its wake came several grams of dirt and gravel, propelled up by such a disturbance. The muck billowed around me in a huge cloud.

I kept my head down, trying to keep my lungs free from any potential clogging. My ears however could still sense the roar of the shuttle – the more I listened to it, the more I became aware of slowly adaptation of change in its jet engines. There was a reduction in intensity and any sense of movement had ceased: The roar was still present but now remained constant.

Slowly, the roar began falling – this suggesting that the ship may be landing.

By the now the dust cloud had settled. I looked up, my brow furrowing in suspicion.

I got up onto my knees and then onto my feet. I blinked some dust particles from my eye and looked around.

My gaze immediately fell on the latest arrival. There, in the clearing below, the ship was settling down, with a dying of engines and a sequel of hydraulic landing gears activating.

In the terms of appearance, the ship was indeed an Imperial shuttle: It was the standard ship, designed for personnel transportation. I had seen this type of craft before and whilst it was fats it certainly wasn't capable of taking large amount of firepower from any enemy forces.

This was my main concern at the moment. Considering that this craft has made such a scene in arriving to the clearing, it was obvious that it the Orks will soon arrive to investigate. Any one of those damn green-skins surely would've seen, or at least heard, the craft come down so no doubt some are already on their way over.

Furthermore, I'm far from overjoyed to see this craft. Anyone else in my position would've been delighted at a prospect of rescue from a miserable fate of being marooned on a planet of hostile forces but not me. Considering that I'm a fugitive, I won't get far without attracting the attention of the Imperial authorities. Thus the task of continually outpacing them is simply impossible. And if the Imperium doesn't catch me then the many alien races throughout the galaxy will.

As such, the fact that this craft is of Imperial origin is hardly a welcome one.

And was me thinking that this planet was the safest place in the entire galaxy for me.

I guess the Imperium eventually finds you no matter where you hide in the universe….

I quickly reached for my bolt pistols. If they are going to come to take me to grim fate of the Penal Legion then there's no way in hell I'm going without a fight……

My eye fell on Xerxes – he too was getting up off the ground, and dusting himself off.

He however looked somewhat optimistic: his face currently hold house to a cheerful grin and excited eyes.

"I simply can not believe it!" he exclaimed "A ship just flew by!"

"Did it ever" I called, gesturing down into the clearing.

Puzzled, the Rogue Trader came hurrying over. When he saw the ship however, he let out a whoop of excitement.

"I don't believe it!" he beamed "A ship has come! And it's an Imperial one! We're saved old man! We're saved!"

Hearing these words was enough for my mouth to morph into a ferocious scowl. This morn is so naïve….

But then again he's a Rogue Trader – all of whom possess a degree of credibility within the Imperium itself (even if Xerxes' distinction is hardly a genuine one). It's not like he should be worried about staying one step ahead of the law.

(But then again it's certainly a criminal offence, that's well and truly punishable, to lie to Imperial authorities).

"What are the odds of something like this happening?" the Rogue Trader beamed, being barely able to contain his excitement.

"Too good to be true if you ask me!" I snarled in reply.

Xerxes blinked in astonishment.

"What are you talking about?" his asked. Now, his voice, although still radiating with excitement, had become tainted with disbelief "You should be excited that a ship has come to rescue us!"

"Correction! You should be!" I retorted.

"Sorry?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" I snapped "I'm on the run from the Imperial authorities! And seeing an Imperial ship like this one, arrive on this miserable rock is not the best turn of events ever!"

"You're full of it!" Xerxes shot back "This is our one chance to escape this planet! And I'm certainly not going to let a opportunity like this pass me by!"

And with that, he sprinted down the slope, towards the ship.

I mentally cursed. Obviously Xerxes' sense of adventure had gotten the better of him – as such he won't heed to anything else except the callings of his own heart.

Why oh why, out of all the other scum-suckers in the known universe, must I still be teamed up with the most infuriating of company?!?!

Still I have no idea what a liar and a coward is doing with such a strong possession of a sense of adventure but such is fate.

A nasty thought then struck me: What if he intended to sell me out? If he's running off way ahead of me then he must intend to explain himself as a prisoner and myself has his captor! I would then get arrested for real and eventually wind up in the Penal Legion while Xerxes gets off scot-free!

It was a possible theory but I wasn't one to take any chances. Immediately, I sprinted off after him.

There's no way in hell I'm going to let him pull one over me!

As I ran, I drew my twin bolt pistols. Hey, I'm not taking any chances!

Besides, if he really does intend to sell me out then I have no qualms about blowing his brains out across the surface of this planet.

I finally caught up with him mere metres from the shuttle itself. It loomed above us both, a magnificent machine consisting of two wings, a tall tail fin and a large cockpit fashioned into a triangular shoe that sloped towards us both. Above the wings, implanted proudly on the ship's hull was the ubiquitous Imperial double-headed eagle. The shuttle was able to rest upon the planet's surface via a series of large, steel hydraulic legs.

So far there seemed to be no signs of life in or around the shuttle.

Human or Ork.

So far so good – but if we were going to do something it would have to be done quick because no doubt the Orks are already on their way.

I cast a suspicious eye on Xerxes – so far he seemed wary and drew the lasgun from behind his back.

"Seen anything?" I asked.

"Not yet" he mused "I can't see any sign of the pilots…

"….No can I see any possible way of getting in…."

_What's the matter_? I thought _Were you really expecting the people inside to run out and greet you with open arms_?!

"So what do you intend to do now?" I murmured "Fly the damn thing out of here?"

Xerxes looked at me with a face of blind eagerness.

"Absolutely!" he grinned "Who the hell wants to stay here on an Orc world?"

"Someone on the run from the law" I retorted.

He blinked as I continued:

"Suppose you do succeed in….somehow getting this thing off the ground. And then what?"

"I'm a Rogue Trader!" he snapped in reply "It is within my nature to leave this planet and return to the stars! No other Rogue Trader what be slowed down by such setbacks such as this! They would rather do whatever it takes to overcome such difficulties and return to business! They will then return to their business, even if it does mean starting from scratch and return to business!"

My brow furrowed. Does this bozo really believe he has a chance in the trading game just by holding a _position_ on a Rogue Trader vessel? You gotta be kidding me.

"Don't you understand old man?" Xerxes exclaimed with passionate fervour "The universe is calling me!"

"Then tell him to go shut his cakehole"

The Rogue Trader promptly fell silent. He started at me with an expression of utter bewilderment.

Sensing a breach in his waffling, I quickly moved in for the kill:

"Don't you get it?" I snapped. "You may not think that this Ork World isn't the best place in the universe but you're only deluding yourself!"

"What?!"

"In case you forgot, there isn't anywhere that neither of us can go!

"And here was me thinking you'd enjoy being stuck on this miserable rock"

"Hey when opportunity comes knocking you certainly don't want to be left behind!"

"Do you really think you'll be able to get far in this thing?!" I spluttered "Even if you did get off the ground, you'll still be on your own!"

He opened his mouth but I quickly dealt an immediate follow up:

"And don't think for one second that you're going to drag me into your ridiculous scheme!"

"But…."

"There's not much hope up there as there isn't down here. At least here, I can die a death that's nowhere near the executioner's block."

"Suit yourself" Xerxes retorted.

"Hey, if you want to go and leave this planet, I won't stop you" I snapped "Just keep in mind that there's not much waiting for you beyond there"

"What do you mean?"

"Well once off this planet you will have to contend with Chaos Space marines, Eldar pirates, Ork Freebooters, Tau Raiders, the Necron and the occasional Tyrnaid invasion fleet" I explained, counting each possible threat off my fingers "And when you're done that there's a strong chance you may run into the Imperial Navy. And they won't take too kindly to you stealing a shuttle and using it for your own ends.

"I do believe that is one of the many crimes in the Imperium that's punishable by death…"

"So what?" Xerxes snapped back "I can easily trade this off to any sucker! I can get a good price for this on the Black Market!"

"Yeah, you would know all about that since you distinguished yourself as a Rogue Trader captain" I growled, making sure each words was dripping with enough venom "And that still won't work because the Imperium will track you down eventually and capture you

"You shouldn't underestimate what the Imperium of man can do"

The Rogue Trader fixed me with a long hard look. Before he could reply, I continued:

"Didn't you say so yourself?

"This world is the beginning of an entirely new start" I said, my voice adopting a tone that parodied his own.

Xerxes' facial expression weakened with lines. Lines that could only come from the realisation of defeat.

"Well, we should at least do is try to make contact with the occupants of this shuttle" he replied, his voice thoughtful.

"Who says they would like to meet us?" I challenged.

"The fact that we're the only humans on this planet!" Xerxes countered "It's not like they're going to get far anywhere else here!"

"What if they're pirates?" I sneered.

"Pirates in an Imperial shuttle?" The Rogue Trader exclaimed, his voice exasperated. "That's utterly..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence for, at that moment, the found of a lasgun being fired rang out from up above. Instinctively, the both of us reacted in quick time and immediately dived out of the way. Seconds later, a bolt of lasgun firepower come down and thudded the earth were we both stood.

Running on muscles built up from countless combat situations, I sprinted out into the open. I will admit that it wasn't the best of plans but there's no way in hell that I'm going without a fight!

I immediately dived for the ground, face first. Upon impact, I immediately rolled around onto my back and drew my two bolt pistols in one swift motion.

I then raised both barrels up to ship, ready to send this wannabe sniper on a one way trip to the Warp.

The shuttle loomed above me. It was enormous sight but it betrayed no signs of movement whatsoever.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could se Xerxes lurking near one of the ship's hydraulic landing legs. Naturally, he must've found that position through his cowardice – but at he least had the intelligence to locate some decent cover.

Still at least I can see an upside in my current position: I am currently in a setup that presents the likely possibility of going down in a blaze of glory

And I would rather go out like that instead of cringing in a corner.

But I had better things to think about at the moment rather than ponder on my desired demise. I kept both my eyes on the shuttle, my trigger fingers ready as ever.

_Come on_ I thought _Where are you? Come out of hiding, dammit!_

Suddenly, on the top of the shuttle's hull, I caught sight of movement. Immediately I fired both bolt pistols.

Within moments, a giant cloud of smoke rose above the ships; hull accompanied by the whizzing sound of ammo only cease with the distinctive high pitched whine of ricochet.

Eventually I halted. I couldn't see anything upon the surface of the hull for the huge cloud of smoke billowing skyward.

From his hiding place Xerxes then shouted out to me.

"Did you get anything?"

"Can't tell" I replied.

"Now you hold it right there!"

Suddenly a new voice burst out across the clearing.

I froze. It had been awhile since I heard the voice of another human being.

Well at least the voice of a human that wasn't Xerxes.

Just then I noticed, in amongst the smoke on the ship's hull, the emergence of a shape. A shape that looked remarkably like that of a human being.

* * *

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	12. Commander

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Twelve

As the smoke gradually cleared, more and more was revealed about this shape.

This newcomer was a human. Male in appearance, he was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, accompanied by a pair of long, knee-high combat boots that seemed to have, from this distance, steel caps. The man boasted a bare chest, which seemed to holding home to both impressive muscles and numerous scars. His head also boasted along black pony-tail.

He clutched a smoking lasgun, one of standard Imperial make.

But there were three things about this newcomer that really stood out for me.

The first was a tattoo on his left shoulder – I couldn't see it clearly from this distance but it seemed to resemble the image of a skull, flanked by a pair of metallic-looking wing shapes.

I could be mistaken but from what I saw of the image was that it was the all-too familiar insignia – one that proudly declared the status of an Imperial Guardsman.

The second thing I picked up was this man had no real right arm: In its place was something metallic looking. No doubt a bionic arm – also of the standard Imperial manufacture.

Obviously, this guy had seen his fair share of combat.

The third thing that stood out was the fact that this newcomer was holding a lasgun. One which he had aimed right at me.

Oh…. this wasn't good.

"Don't try anything funny!" the man shouted at me, his vocal chords sounding like they had been used quite well over countless of years "Drop your weapons and put your hands where I can see them!"

I grudgingly did what I was told. My two bolt pistols both fell with a clatter and my bare hands reached upwards.

Such is the way of the universe that is the forty-first millennium: I finally meet another human and already they, like every other alien race, start issuing threats.

Just typical…..

"Now" the man said "I want some answers

"Firstly, where the hell am I?!"

"On an Ork World, far beyond the borderlines of Imperial space!"

This was immediately received with a hail of lasgun fire onto my prostrate form.

I blinked but I didn't feel anything.

"Enough with the jokes shit-head" the man snarled "What's the name of this planet?"

"I don't believe it has one!"

"What's your name?"

I blinked – this seemed like a perfect opportunity to make some headway: If I could reveal myself as a fellow grunt, he may stop shooting at me.

"Private Narc!" I shouted back "2nd Squad, 98th Company, XIIIrd Battalion of Necromunda!"

The man suddenly raised his rifle up. Then, without a further word, he disappeared from view.

I blinked. Well, that seemed to work. But why did he disappear? Either he was on his way down to meet me or he was busy in finding an even greater weapon to fry me with.

Naturally I wasn't prepared to take any chances – there is never ever the time or the place within this universe to be so trusting.

By now Xerxes had emerged from hiding. He fixed me with a quizzical gaze but never once moved out from underneath the shuttle.

"What was all that about?" he called

"I told him my status as an Imperial guardsman" I called back "It seemed to get him interested"

"So what's he doing?"

"I have no idea"

Suddenly, without warning, the shuttle let out a colossal groan. Seconds later, a whirling sound resonated from within, accompanied by a distinctively mechanical grinding.

Then, a huge panel descended from underneath the hull. It came down onto the earth into a forty-five degree angle, guided by a pair of pistons situated on either side. The panel came down, several feet ahead from Xerxes' hiding spot.

The man came striding down the panel, from the inside of the ship, and onto the surface of the planet. He caught sight of me for he immediately came hurrying over.

As he drew nearer, I noticed his shoulder and my suspicions were confirmed: His shoulder had the insignia of the Imperial Guard.

Seeing something that could be considered a kindred soul kind of added some ease to my mind.

And believe you me it's been a long time since something like that has happened.

As the man advanced closer and closer towards me, I was able to get a good look at him for the first time. And needless to say, he certainly was a big man: he was a full head taller me and he had an impressive array of muscles. The scars that I picked up before had now evolved into a large number and some even resembled sheer crevices within the flesh. The man had a thick jaw and a glare that radiated with the meanest of attitudes.

He locked me within his gaze as he approached but I didn't flinch at all.

The man stopped within several feet of me.

He then paused to look at me for several short moments.

Finally he cleared his throat and spoke, in a voice that resembled that of a soft growl.

"First Lieutenant Pike Bishop" the man said "63rd Company, VIth Battalion of Catachan"

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. With such an introduction, any hope I may have previously possessed all evaporated within the blink of eye. This kept getting better and….

Unfortunately, my thoughts were cut short with a huge blow across the jaw.

Worse still, it came from his bionic arm.

Meaning it hurt more than being ripped apart by Tyranid Hormaguant.

But at least the people who end up caught in that miserable fate are always dead beforehand.

I however have to live with this freshly issued, and all-too excruciating, pain.

For the next hour at least.

"Stand to attention small fry" the lieutenant barked "Isn't that proper conduct when in the presence of an officer?!"

My jaw throbbed with pain and my mind was in a state of shock but I relented: My legs immediately came together into the distinctive attention stance.

Great. Just great. This guy may be a fellow Imperial Guardsman but he's a superior officer! What's worse is that he comes from Catachan – a wretched jungle planet famous for breeding one of the most toughest, meanest Guardsmen regiments in the Imperium!

And he certainly had the muscle to prove it.

This was the type of situation that really destroyed any thoughts and hopes of the prospect of freedom.

You gotta hate those types of situations – they always seem to crop up at the least opportune moments.

The lieutenant then cleared his throat.

"Care to fill me in the current situation?" he asked "What are you doing out here in the wilderness on your own? Where are the other grunts in our platoon? Where's the nearest settlement on this planet?"

My brow furrowed. He seemed convinced that this was an Imperial world.

Okay, so this is going to make explaining everything somewhat difficult…

Dammit, where was Xerxes when you needed him?! Knowing him, he would have plenty of experience in talking his way out of tense situations such as this.

I took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid that what I'm about to say may be difficult to accept sir!" I said in a voice that resonated with an all-too familiar, all-too mechanical, all-too parade-ground declaration.

The lieutenant fixed me with a ferocious glare and brought his face up real close to my own.

"Try me" he growled.

"This planet isn't part of Imperial space, sir!" I said "It is an Ork World situated well beyond the borderlines of the Imperium!"

"Liar!"

I blinked. This guy certainly is quick with passing such judgements.

"It's the honest truth sir!" I protested "I crashed landed here and have been fighting a guerrilla war in the name of my own survival!"

"That's absurd!" the lieutenant snapped. And with that he reached forward and grabbed my face. His palm came in hard into my chin and his fingers crushed their way into my skin and the bone of my skull.

The unease inside of me expanded into a form of such size and mass that it was well beyond normal comprehension. This guy certainly had some strength in both his arm and his hand. His grip was also particularly tight, offering little in the way of opportunity of escape.

Well, this certainly wasn't the best of situations: The only other human I've seen in an insurmountable length of time has only just met me and already he seems all too keen to kill me.

The irony is simply just sickening.

"You'd better stop fucking with me" the lieutenant sneered "Or else I'm going to break every bone in your wretched body."

I blinked. This guy had just arrived to this planet and already he's started issuing such threats! If I knew better, this mood was a classic example of him being cooped up inside for long enough to allow large amounts of mental tension to take control over his mind.

"I'm telling the truth, dammit!" I snarled "We are the only humans on this planet!"

"Don't you know the proper way of addressing a superior officer?!" roared the lieutenant, his facial expression looking awfully eager to tear my head off and crushing it like an egg.

But he didn't do such thing, instead he settled for delivering a lethal blow across the jaw. Since this was from his bionic arm, the blow was accompanied by a sickening crunch. I flew from his grip and come crashing down onto my back.

In all honesty, there's no telling how long this guy had been cooped up in that shuttle

But if his behaviour is anything to go by, it wouldn't too far from the truth to suggest that he's been in there for a while.

The lieutenant strode over and placed a huge steel-capped boot onto my chest, his face red with rage.

Suddenly I remembered: My two bolt pistols were still held securely in the grip of each of my hands (I guess this is the product of too much experience in battle in understanding the importance of not letting go of one's weapons).

Without a further thought, I immediately drew them both and aimed them at the lieutenant.

He raised an eyebrow – a gesture of surprise that's indeed understandable – but he still hardly seemed bothered with being confronted with two firearms being aimed at him.

The lieutenant never once loosened his grip around his lasgun, his expression still seeming quite determined to blow my head off.

"Raising one's arms against a superior officer" he growled "That's a serious offence, usually punishable by death"

"Gotta go sometime" I retorted "What would one more dead Imperial Guardsmen matter in the general scheme of things?"

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow and immediately applied more pressure into his foot. I could feel the weight plunging it's way into my stomach but no sound, not even a whimper, escaped my lips.

I blinked up at the lieutenant – when he noticed his method of intimidation had no effect, he actually seemed surprised.

But such a moment only lasted for a complete split-second.

He thrust his lasgun forward until I felt the sting of a cold steel barrel imprinting itself into the flesh of my forehead.

"You are in no position to make such snide comments!" he boomed.

"What are you talking about?" I retorted "Were you listening when I said we weren't anywhere within the Imperium any more?!"

"You honestly expect me to believe such shit?!"

"Well yeah, seeing its truth, dammit!" I snarled.

"You know something trooper" the lieutenant retorted "Your smart-arse attitude, in fact you're continued existence is really pissing me off"

"Not that's going to matter in our current situation"

"What?"

"Wake up to reality dammit!" I snarled "We're the only humans on this planet!" As such we…"

"Enough of that bullshit!" he screamed "You stop fucking with me right or now or else I'll end your life right here and now!

"Bet you'll find it a real pleasure" I sneered

"Besides" I continued "In case you hadn't noticed, I can still easily blow you apart even with my back to the ground"

The lieutenant blinked – he paused as if he pondered on this situation.

Was this the first time he'd noticed? Possibly but it was the first time, since we met, that he exhibited a pondering behaviour instead of continually threatening to kill me.

And unsurprisingly, such a moment didn't last very long.

The barrel of the lasgun didn't budge a single inch nor did strength being applied behind it falter in anyway.

"You could shoot me the same time as I shoot you" he theorised "But at least I'll die with the knowledge that I'd taken you out of my misery!"

"Bring it on!" I sneered.

This was the cue I was expecting that the lieutenant to take and to paint the clearing with my brains.

I was afraid – Although I would like to depart this miserable life with a scream of "I regret nothing!"

But still, did such declarations seem worthwhile when the mind understood entirely?

No, maybe not.

My keen eyes noticed the lieutenant's finger slowly squeeze into the firing trigger.

When suddenly it halted.

I blinked – and then I noticed.

The lieutenant had a new problem in the form of another gun. This one resembled another lasgun and it took up aim mere centimetres from his head.

A lasgun that could only have belonged to Xerxes.

"You will put your gun down slowly" the Rogue Trader said in an even tone.

I mentally cursed – oh great what was this idiot planning to do? Don't tell me he was trying to be a hero. A coward like him?! You can't be serious! Considering the ultra-tense nature of this situation, it's not going to take a lot for an imbecile such as Xerxes to mess everything up and have the entire thing turn against him.

Such moments of courage always turned out like that. Don't know way it happened like that, it just did.

Still I had to give him credit – this was perhaps the first time that I had commendable visual proof that he had some balls.

"And who the hell are you?" the lieutenant demanded.

"I strongly advise that you do what you're told without question" Xerxes replied "You seem to be very much out-gunned at the moment."

I kept my eye on Xerxes, trying to pick any sign that would betray his natural cowardice. Why? Well, I simply refuse to believe the idea that such a coward would have enough courage to pull off such an intimidating situation such as this one. I looked for quivering muscles, I made the effort to identify any shakiness in his tone of voice and I tried to pick up any lines fear arranged within his facial expression.

Remarkably I couldn't find anything.

"A Rogue Trader?" the lieutenant sneered, obviously identifying Xerxes' tattered clothing "Sorry but I don't have the creds on me!"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Isn't that the only way you scamming bastards will ever pay attention to anyone?!"

Xerxes sighed.

"Just put the damn lasgun down"

The lieutenant cast a ferocious glare at the Rogue Trader. He then gave an equally intimidating gaze at me and my twin bolt-pistols.

"Do it!" Xerxes shouted.

The lieutenant grumbled his discontent but gave his consent. And he not only lowered his lasgun but he also got his foot off me as well.

However neither Xerxes nor myself saw it appropriate to lower our own weapons – sure the lieutenant may have but there's not much stopping him from pulling out a secret weapon, throwing a right hook or something along those lines.

It was the oldest trick in the book.

Although I personally wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that mean looking bionic arm of his.

The lieutenant didn't look too pleased about the present situation (this is understandable) but he didn't do anything resembling a retaliation move.

"Well done, it seems you were capable of lowering your weapon" Xerxes sneered.

I grimaced. Well if I needed to know that this whole bad-ass attitude was such an artificial occurrence then I needn't look any further. Of course, someone forgot to tell Xerxes that such a façade would become obvious with such a poor selection of words.

"And start raising your hands to where I can see them"

Naturally, the lieutenant refused to comply.

"You certainly are a difficult one aren't you?"

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" the lieutenant growled.

"I'm afraid you're in no position to make any threats" Xerxes replied evenly.

"What the hell?!" came the reply.

"Just do what I say!" the Rogue Trader snapped.

The lieutenant's facial expression grew grudging (understandably) but he still threw his lasgun down. Being situated directly within it's flight-path of terminal velocity, I reach around behind me to rest one of my bolt pistols underneath my shoulder (but still keeping the other pistol trained on the lieutenant). I then used my now free hand to catch the falling firearm.

Without waiting for a reaction from the other two, I threw the lasgun far away as possible, to keep well out of the lieutenant's reach. Then, I reached behind to retrieve my remaining pistol.

In this universe, it's certainly a suicidal move to be caught without some type of firearm.

The lieutenant then turned his angry gaze to me.

"Private!" he bawled "Blow his head off!"

I blinked at this sudden command.

But did I pay attention to it?

Of course I didn't. I merely pushed myself away from the lieutenant, my feet taking one step after another, this directing the rest of my body across the valley floor.

And never once did I take my eye off the lieutenant nor did I lower my twin bolt pistols.


	13. Powerless

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Thirteen

When he saw his order was never heeded at all the lieutenant grew even more furious.

"Soldier!" he bellowed "I gave you an order! You carry it out right now or I'll have you court martialled!"

"And who's going to hear you?" I snapped back, now moving into a seated position and then rising onto my feet "Me?

"Him?" I added, indicating towards Xerxes

"WHAT THE HELL….."

And the lieutenant would've been able to complete his sentence had it not been for Xerxes taken the initiative and brought his foot down on the lieutenant's own.

The lieutenant's face immediately screwed up with lines of pain and his eyes bulged in spectacular fashion. Oddly enough, not a single yelp, or bellow, came tumbling out of his mouth.

"I would advise you to keep quiet" the Rogue Trader said.

"How the hell are you to…"

"I'm afraid you're not really in any position to argue"

The lieutenant ground his teeth but said nothing.

Taking that as a yes, Xerxes smiled a twisted smile. But he still kept his lasgun trained on the practically powerless lieutenant.

"Now, I strongly advise that you pay direct attention to what we have to tell you

"And may I add that you'll be best taking this information seriously for it's the whole, undivided truth."

"Why should I believe the word of a Rogue Trader?" the lieutenant sneered.

"Because this one has the barrel of his rifle aimed way too close at your cranium

"It always seems to be the only form of understanding you Imperial Guardsmen abide to"

He winked at me – but I found nothing particularly amusing about his rather absurd attempt at being witty.

Not that I've ever found him once witty at all.

Still I had to give him credit – his current mood had actually pulled off the near impossible task of surprising me. In such a delicate situation, that could easily fall apart given the right moment, he managed to keep a cool head and, somehow, established a real intimidating presence.

God-Emperor knows how he managed to do so.

Maybe my words had somehow made an impact bigger than I had ever imagined.

In fact, now that I think about it, this was the most serious I had ever seen him since his arrival on this miserable rock. Gone, at least for the moment, was that lying, cowardly, eternally optimistic (and therefore completely annoying) buffoon. And in its place was cold, sinister gunman who approached such a tense situation with the impression of a professional, who has done this type of thing many times before.

It makes me wonder – is the story he told me entirely true? Is he really the coward he claims to be or is he hiding something much more sinister?

Of course, it was possible that he momentarily conquered his natural cowardice for such a critical situation as this one but who'd believe tripe like that?!

"Now then" Xerxes said "Perhaps you would care to listen to what we have to say since I have your undivided attention?"

I mentally cursed – sure he may be currently maintaining an intimidating presence but did he have to resort to such corny lines?! Honestly, who the hell speaks like that in this day and age?!

"Now, as my friend was trying to tell you, we are all stranded on a planet far beyond the borderlines of Imperial space. This world is populated entirely by the Orks so we have been relying on guerrilla warfare just so we can survive day after day.

"We both have only arrived here on separate occasions – but both times were through the same way: crash landing here through the wreck of a ruined ship"

"So why don't you try to escape?" the lieutenant sneered. It seemed he wasn't buying into this at all (well there you go: concrete proof that the truth is even weirder than fiction).

"Even if we had the means to, we wouldn't dare try" Xerxes replied evenly "You see, there isn't much left for the both of us beyond this planet. I'm a ruined Rogue Trader whose career is on the rocks"

I coughed in a sarcastic manner. Whether or not Xerxes picked up on however wasn't made clear in his facial expression and his actions for he continued unperturbed.

"My friend Narc over there is a deserter who escaped a prison ship once it was attacked by the Dark Eldar. He wound up here where he's remained in hiding ever since"

I grimaced – Again, Xerxes' ability to talk too much is in full effect. Honestly, did the lieutenant really need to know all this?

"So in effect" the Rogue Trader said "There is nothing on offer for us in the universe. As such we have no intention of leaving the planet."

I raised an eyebrow. Funny, I don't recall saying anything along those lines to Xerxes. I thought I was only stuck here because there was no way else off it.

"Which means that we can't let you out of our sights"

The lieutenant's glare darkened. With a look that inspired more ferocity than anything an Eldar Howling Banshee could come up with, he glared at me.

"Dammit soldier!" he roared "Are you just going to stand there and let this moron threaten me?! Take action! And that's an order!"

"Small problem there _sir_" I sneered, making sure the last word was issued with appropriate amount of venom "As long as we continue to remain on this planet, we remain way out of the range of the Imperium. As such, we live by the rules we make for ourselves.

"Meaning, you have little control over me as an Imperial Guardsman CO"

"WHAT?!"

"Face reality will you?!" I snapped back "On this planet, it is a constant battle for survival! Ranks mean nothing when you're trying to find food, making the effort to locate anything usable on this rock and maintaining a step ahead of the enemy whilst trying to manage every last ounce of ammo! Who's going to care about your status when you've got nothing left and you're expending every last fibre of energy in trying to stay alive?!"

"And would you be considerate enough to stop shouting?" I added "The Orks still don't know of our presence on this planet and we don't want our one, singular advantage exposed!"

"So what now?" the lieutenant sneered "What are you going to do now? Steal my shuttle? It's not like you're going to get anywhere when you're both on the run"

"Very perceptive there" I growled before nodding to the Rogue Trader.

"Get up on your feet" I ordered "We're heading back to your shuttle"

The lieutenant looked surprised but Xerxes showed no expression.

"What to you intend to do?" the captive demanded.

"We're going to take a little ride" I answered simply.

The Rogue Trader pushed the barrel of his lasgun into the lieutenant, thus forcing him to movement.

And we all headed towards the shuttle.

"What do you want with me?" the lieutenant.

"Well I can't pilot a shuttle and as far as I know Xerxes can't either" I replied "That leaves you"

"What makes you think I would help you?"

"The ever present truth that all that matters is who's holding the lasgun of course"

"What makes you think I wouldn't try to sell you out, at the first opportunity since leaving the planet?"

"What makes you think we're leaving the planet?" I sneered, casting an evil glare over my shoulder.

The lieutenant blinked in surprise. It seemed that he hadn't picked up on what I was implying.

By now, we had moved within the shadow of the shuttle. Before us, was the gantry that led up to into the belly of the ship itself.

"What the hell are you doing?!" the lieutenant snapped "Whatever mad scheme you have in mind, there's no way in hell I'm ever going to be part of it!"

"Oh stop your whining" I retorted.

All three of us moved onto the gantry.

"Well now" I said, addressing the lieutenant "Seeing as you're the designated pilot, would you be so kind as to letting us on board?"

His face morphed into an expression of utter contempt. However, with movements that betrayed his grudging outlook onto both myself and Xerxes (but more so me than the Rogue Trader), the lieutenant reached for his belt and pulled out a small control object: It resembled a small stick, no bigger than a cigarette, with several buttons arranged upon it. The lieutenant then pressed one of the buttons, thus setting off a series of small clicks and beeps. Then, with a groan of hydraulic machinery and a hum of machinery operating, the gantry rose up off the ground and into the shuttle itself.

I still can't believe this - I'm giving the orders around here! And ordering around a superior officer at that!

In any case, I'm going to relish every moment of this – This certainly will go down as something to talk about for years to come!

Okay, so being marooned on this distant planet implies that maybe no one else will hear about it but who cares?!

"Now then" I added "Lets all head for the driver's seat shall we?"

* * *

A short time later, we had all gathered in the pilot's cabin of the shuttle. Before us stood two chairs arrange before a vast control panel. I paused momentarily to look out of one of the side window whilst Xerxes kept his lasgun trained on our captive.

"So what the hell do you want me to do?" the lieutenant, his voice betraying his begrudging manner.

I didn't answer immediately – instead, I peered out the window, my gaze aimed at the jungle beyond, scanning for any signs of movement.

All I could see was trees – it was all green but not the green I was looking for. There was no sign of explosions or any other movement.

All around was silence.

Meaning we hadn't been discovered yet.

And there was still time to be done with this and away.

But the lack of knowledge how much of time remained placed an emphasis on the sense of urgency.

I immediately turned around and smiled at the hapless lieutenant.

"You see that lake down there?" I asked, pointing at the window. "You're going to pilot this shuttle into it"

"WHAT?!" the lieutenant shouted, his face a mixture of surprise and outrage. "You can't be serious!"

"Keep it down will you?" I retorted calmly "As far as we know, the Orks don't know we're here and we don't want to run the risk of them finding us"

The lieutenant blinked, his mind seemingly dawning on what I was getting at.

"After all, considering the size of this shuttle, it's only a matter of time before they find us.

"And we certainly don't want that happening"

I raised my bolt pistol in the lieutenant's direction.

"See that chair?" I said, indicating towards the pilot's seat "She's all yours"

Unsurprisingly, the lieutenant hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?" I said sharply "Get moving!"

He looked back over his shoulder to the Rogue Trader. Xerxes, however, didn't bat an eyelid. Instead he kept his lasgun rigid into the lieutenants' back.

"You don't really have a choice in this matter" the Rogue Trader said softly.

The lieutenant let out a begrudging sigh but slowly made his way to the pilot's seat.

Although too slowly for my liking.

With movements that were leaden with complete reluctance, the lieutenant climbed into the seat and immediately starting accessing the control to the ship…

Until I immediately concluded that he had no idea as to the urgency of the situation and little realisation as to how limited time was at hand.

Obviously he needed a helping hand.

And I gave him one in the form of a bolt pistol barrel to the side of his head.

"Do hurry it up" I growled.

From out of the corner of his eye, the lieutenant glared at me with a gaze of fury that would be more at home in the Eye of Terror. But the threat seemed to achieve the desired result as his hands started moving at an increased rate.

Within seconds, the ship began resonating with the hum of plasma engines. Lights flickered up across the control panel and the ship began shuddering ever-so slightly with the anticipation of movement. Then, a blast of rockets emitted from way down the other end of the shuttle.

I turned to Xerxes.

"Keep an eye on him" I ordered – to which the Rogue Trader nodded.

I immediately left the lieutenant's side and retreated back to the window.

I cast a wary eye out to the jungle below. So far, there was no sign of any Orks.

This certainly was curious. I figured they would've already been here by now having seen the shuttle originally land. And this recent activation of the shuttle surely wouldn't go unnoticed.

But who cares? The longer we remain here, the more chance we have of the Orks arriving and having our position exposed.

"Come on now _sir_" I said, adding appropriate venom with the last word "We haven't got all day"

The lieutenant glared at me with a gaze that would look more at home on the face of an Eldar Avatar. The contempt for me and being forced into such actions were as clear as an Imperial Eagle on a Space Marine's power armour, but the lieutenant engaged the shuttle's controls.

Slowly the craft rose into the air. Then, it slowly moved forward until it was directly above the lake itself.

I watched the lieutenant with sick satisfaction. Then I noticed the fingers of his bionic arm twitch,

Immediately I launched myself to stick a bolt pistol directly next to his cranium.

"Don't even think about it"

It seemed that each and every action I forced the lieutenant into doing triggered an increase towards the outrage he possessed for me.

But then again, why should I be bothered? Within this corner of the galaxy, it's not like he's going to have me court martialled for this.

Unless, he's somehow cunning enough to pull out an Adeptus Arbite Judge from out of nowhere.

"Exactly what do you hope to achieve by doing this?" the lieutenant growled.

"Let me put it this way" I snapped back "I'm not going anywhere, Xerxes isn't going anywhere and you're certainly not going anywhere.

"That being said, what need do we have of this ship?"

The lieutenant blinked but his face grew with realisation.

A grudging realisation.

Moments later, the three of us stood on the bank of the lake. By now, the ship was well on it's sinking way to into the mud at the lake bottom.

It's new home for who know s how long.

"You think the Orks may find it?" Xerxes inquired.

"Possibly" I muttered "But I doubt they would succeed in making it move"

"They would try and wreck it if they did!" the lieutenant growled.

"Well then, maybe you'll see why we had to hide the damn thing" I snapped back.

"If this was in the Imperium" he snarled "You wouldn't have gotten away with so many counts of insubordination within such a small amount of time!"

"You got a point there" I replied "Only one thing though: We're not in the Imperium any more"

"We three are all out on our own" Xerxes added

"So you may as well get used to this way of life, _sir_"

The lieutenant glared at as both with the type of ferocious expression that would probably looked more at home upon the face of an Eldar Avatar.

But in amongst the fury, I could sense a degree of understanding. An understanding however grudging.

Still any understanding is good enough for me.

"Anyway gentlemen, perhaps we should best be going?" the Rogue Trader said "We do have to constantly remain one step ahead of all the Orks"

I nodded.

"Well then _sir_" I sneered "You heard the man. Get moving"

With his own lasgun in hand, I directed the barrel into his chest, urging him onward.

I have to admit, something like this took balls. It wasn't so much giving him the orders but doing when he was unarmed! And when his only weapon was in my hands! Naturally, only something like this would happen on a planet far beyond the reach of the Imperium.

Amazingly, the lieutenant complied: Without so much a whimper, he turned around and allowed himself to be directed away from the lake and it's newly acquired resident and head deep into the jungle

You know, as I think about it, this life sounds so much more appealing than serving as a grunt in the Imperial Guard.

* * *

Next Chapter  
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	14. Conflict

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Fourteen

And so we spent the rest of the afternoon making our way through the jungle. Oddly enough, we didn't seem to have any sort of encounter whatsoever from the Orks.

A strange prospect, considering the unexpected arrival of the shuttle to the planet.

But chances are, the Orks may have already been to the landing site and I doubt they would've been able to find anything.

And I have never once had any reason to be convinced that the Orks had any tracking skills whatsoever.

Well, any tracking skills comparable to that of an Eldar Ranger.

But stranger still when one considers that we were travelling with a prisoner in tow.

But even stranger still considering we had one of the greatest motor-mouths in the galaxy.

It's name being Xerxes.

After an hour or so of silent marching, the Rogue Trader suddenly cleared his throat.

"Well then gentlemen" he said brightly "We have been going for quite some time! And in silence too!"

_Funny_ I thought _I was enjoying it_

"So much so, I am reminded of this one time when I found myself stranded on a desert world…."

I mentally groaned. Well, he's off and running now…

"So I stuck on this desert world see. It was just me and a data slat which I had picked up from my ship. It contained all the records I had picked up from my many travels across the galaxy! It contains a wide range of information on a variety of races and cultures!"

I blinked. Yes, I could just imagine him getting information out of a Chaos Khorne Berzerker…..

"And it was from this data slat that I began to extract all information I could from the planet I could. I found out that the planet was actually classified as by the Imperium as a Death World so then…."

_You surviving on a Death World?_ I thought _Why do I have trouble believing it?_

"I wandered around trying to find some sign of life – anything that could get me off this world! But after several hours of wandering, it soon dawned on me that I was well and truly alone on this planet!"

"So how did your survive then?" I sneered.

But the truth be told, a more realistic question was _Why did you survivie_?

"Well that is an extraordinary tale in itself! So once I had realised I was the only human on this planet I immediately set about…."

I let out a small sigh. This was just going great….

I really shouldn't encourage him under any circumstances…

Nevertheless, despite of what crap that imbecile can come out with, I shouldn't let my guard down.

But in a situation such as this, the moron shouldn't be rattling on like this. Not when we have a prisoner with a high degree of hostile potential.

Dammit, he just doesn't any concept of danger at all….

I blinked at this thought.

The three of us were still marching through the jungle, the lieutenant in the lead and with the lasgun well trained onto his back. So far, he hadn't given us any trouble whatsoever nor has he made any effort to make a break for it. He has kept his mouth silent and allowed himself to be led on without any attempt at resistance

But the again, what can you do when you're forced into marching around with a gun in your back?

Meanwhile, Xerxes continued rambling – completely oblivious, as always, that his 'audience' weren't paying him any attention whatsoever.

"…..And within time, I stumbled across a miraculous discovery! A relic half buried under the sand! After digging it out, I immediately identified it's construct as one of Tau origin. After opening it up and examining it, I found it to be a emergency kit! Just think of it! It was loaded with food and medicinal supplies!"

"Oh, you're such an expert on being stranded" I said, sarcasm radiating like the bloodied hand of an Eldar Avatar "Perhaps in future when I face a problem, perhaps I should ask the expert!"

Xerxes chuckled an amused chuckle.

"You should do you know. After all, I have been through more scrapes than you could ever imagine! After all, I have seen the universe and have conversed with many races, seen wondrous sights, analysed so much alien technology and encountered more bizarre entities than any human could do in a single lifetime!

And off he went again.

I ground my teeth. He just doesn't know when to shut up….

"Is he always like this?" inquired a low voice.

I raised an eyebrow.

This was the first time since we started moving that the lieutenant had dared to open his mouth.

But no amount of surprise could halt the steel-like tension within my bones. If this bastard is tyring to cook up some kind of escape plan then the least I could do was deny any kind of opportune moment for him to make a move.

"Unfortunately yes" I muttered.

Still, given a choice I would rather appreciate the company of a meat-axe of potentially homicidal intent than hang around Xerxes.

"Why do you hang around him?"

Careful, mustn't let my guard down….

But that's certainly not an easy task when you're trying not to lose concentration and you have the additional problem of being far too busy contending with the words of a Rogue Trader of infuriating disposition.

"You know" I replied "I guess I don't have much of a choice"

"Oh?"

"Being the only humans on this planet and all…"

"If that's the case then how the hell have you two managed to survive for so long?"

"Emperor knows I guess"

"All I know that if I was stuck with a moron like your Rogue Trader friend I would've blown his head off"

To this, I laughed.

"Seems we both have a common interest.

"But then again, I'm not really in a position to be choosy with whom I travel with"

"Oh?"

I shot a brief gaze back over my shoulder. The Rogue Trader was still rambling on completely unaware that neither of us was listening and we were both involved in a conversation.

I shrugged. Well in that case, I guess I can say what I like about the moron…

"You see, as detestable as Xerxes is, he is human company. And as far as I'm concern, any type of human company is better than the company of the other life-forms on this planet"

"Your alleged Orks that would be?" the lieutenant sneered.

"You aren't the easily convincible type are you?" I retorted.

"I haven't seen any of these Orks around yet" the lieutenant snapped "And seeing as you value human company so much, that doesn't really explain why you're insisting that I march with my own gun being prodded into my back"

"Well, it's kinda funny: You open fire and then you insist that I follow your orders"

"So?!

"You need to calm down a bit" I sneered "You can't expect us all to survive when you're kicking up a fuss now? You'll put us all in danger!

"And hey, if you keep carrying on like this, you'll meet some of the Orks soon enough"

"Dammit soldier…."

"And another thing" I interrupted "You haven't quite got it clear that we are all stranded with absolutely no hope in hell of getting back to the Imperium. So we really can't have you running off in some lame-brained attempt to escape now can we?"

"So what?" the lieutenant snapped "If this is really an Ork World as you claim, then why aren't you making any attempt to escape?! You just sent your best chance to the bottom of a lake!"

To this I chuckled in a sinister manner.

"You may think that escaping this rock certainly seems better than staying here" I sneered "But you're mistaken. I told you: We are both wanted men. We both have no where else to go. If we set one foot into the Imperium we'll both be arrested on sight and executed in the blink of an eye.

"Meaning that being stranded on a planet fair beyond the reaches of the Imperium is perhaps the safest place in the universe for us at the moment.

"Sure there is the unpleasant fact that we have to share this planet it with some uncooperative locals but I would rather die fighting a horde of Orks then with my head upon the executioner's block"

"So why are you keeping me alive?"

"You're one of only very few humans upon this planet. And what this means for you is that we have to stick together.

"Whether you like it or not"

* * *

And so we kept journeying for the rest of the afternoon.

The lieutenant didn't give us anything in the way of trouble: Sure he made some threats here and there but never once did he make any effort to break free and challenge us both.

I don't why he did so though: In the terms of hand to hand to combat he had all the advantage. He had a bionic arm after all – something neither myself or Xerxes were willing to contend with.

I guess the longer he was forced into constantly moving with a lasgun in the back, the more evidence he obtained about the current situation and what Xerxes and myself had been trying to tell him for so long.

Miraculously enough, we didn't seem to run into any Ork patrols, even when we were both busy escorting a prisoner.

But such luck can only run so far.

It happened just as dusk approached. We were making our way across a clearing, heading towards a group of trees.

"So tell me" the lieutenant sneered "What are you going to do when night falls?"

"We'll go to sleep" I replied "Just like everyone else"

"What, including the Orks?"

"We don't know about that" I snapped "Neither do we care"

There was a slight pause and then he spoke again:

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen any of these Orks that you both so claim to occupy this planet

"Makes me wonder about the degree of authenticity about what you keep telling me"

"Oh you'll meet them soon enough" Xerxes said

"I bet"

This then led to another slight pause before the lieutenant cleared his throat.

"So we're heading for those trees are we?"

"That's right" I said "We'll be setting up for the night there"

"You know, for a pair of guerrilla fighters you're both doing an appalling job"

"What the hell are you talking about?

"If you've been surviving for so long using guerrilla tactics, and not letting the Orks know you're here, then why were we walking across the clearing, out in the open?!"

I shrugged.

"It's dusk! It's not like the damn green-skins are ever going to notice us!"

"You seem terribly confident" the lieutenant sneered.

I opened my mouth to speak but I was interrupted.

The interruption came in the form of a massive explosion

Instincts took over. I forgot all about the prospect of sleep. I forgot all about keeping the lieutenant under check. All that mattered was facing the Orks.

I withdrew the lasgun barrel from the lieutenant's back.

I also heard the clicks of Xerxes readying his own lasgun.

Of course, such was the urgency of being confronted by green-skins that I never once considered the possibility of the now free lieutenant making an attempt to attack us and then legging it.

I guess I should consider myself fortunate.

"Seems like those fabled Orks are on their way" I sneered at the lieutenant.

The lieutenant said nothing.

Suddenly, out from the forest burst a group of six Orks. But they didn't attack immediately. Instead their charge was halted by the unexpected sight of three humans. They blinked in surprise but not for long! Within the space of a split-second, their charge resumed.

"Weren't expecting us were you?!" I shouted "But we were expecting you!"

Immediately, both myself and Xerxes opened fire.

Immediately, a hail of bolts shrieked across the clearing, all screaming towards their target. Two Orks were struck by the force of being hit by multiple lasgun bolts and fell down with a tremendous thud.

But strangely enough, the rest of them kept coming.

Seems they are tougher than usual……

Xerxes and myself kept firing, both hoping for a second grasp of success.

But in amongst the mayhem of the fire-fight, one thing was resting on my mind.

I was supposed to be keeping an eye on the lieutenant.

Of course, this diversion gave him all the opportunity in the world to try and escape. Even kill both myself and Xerxes.

Don't why he'll try though: It's not like he'll get very far without us.

I paused to reload my lasgun. As I did so, I cast a quick gaze to the lieutenant – he merely flexed his bionic arm.

"Well they you go" I snapped "Is that enough Orks for you?!"

"More than enough" the lieutenant growled.

I merely shrugged and continued firing.

Another rain of lasgun bolts came, thus sending a third Ork fell soon after, now leaving three remaining.

But this wasn't an easy task: It seems that these green-skins are indeed much tougher than what we've encountered before.

Usually, it takes one lasgun bolt to bring them down but in this case, it seems it's going to take quite a few bolts to bring these bastards down

But then again, that one lasgun bolt is usually fired out of cover and with such silent, accurate precision just to leave no trace of where the gun may have been fired from.

Here it was standing in the open, facing a foe charging at you at full pace!

The remaining Orks had by now gotten within a radius of several metres. Either they were stronger than normal or they had somehow evaded all my shots.

Naturally, my money was on the latter.

But hey, they're Orks after all. And I have yet to see one that can stand up to me!

Throwing the lasgun aside, I drew forth my trusty bolt pistols. I grinned as one of the Orks, charged towards me, looking ready to fight.

I responded by falling over backwards.

I hit the ground on my back and took aim. The Ork kept on charging, seemingly unaware of my disappearance.

My twin bolt pistols opened fire, sending bolt shells into the green-skin's legs, with the sound of tearing cloth, skin and bone. Within seconds, the Ork's legs gave away, sending the rest of him falling down, flat onto his face.

The Ork, now unable to move his legs, then turned his gaze towards me and glared with utter contempt.

I merely took aim with my pistols and blew his head off.

I then flicked a gaze at Xerxes. He wasn't in the best of circumstances: He hadn't managed to down one of the Orks with firepower. Thus, the Ork had charged right up to him and forced him into hand to hand combat.

An area I didn't know the Rogue Trader for.

But Xerxes was actually putting up something of a fight: He was using the butt of his lasgun to thwart the Ork. He was also managing to evade whatever blow the greens-skin could through at him.

I raised an eyebrow. Amazing - The Rogue Trader has managed to survive this long..

Just then, he dealt a strong thrust into the chin of the Ork. The butt struck with a tremendous crack. And such was the potent of the blow, that the Ork was sent reeling: he took several steps backwards away form Xerxes.

This in turn gave him the opportunity he needed: he quickly darted away from the green-skin's and headed in my direction. Seeing the lieutenant's discarded lasgun, he reached down and picked it up in his free hand.

By now the Ork had recovered from the blow and was glaring at the Rogue Trader. Xerxes responded by aiming both his guns at the Ork.

I groaned. Don't tell me he's going to do what I think he has in mind….

The Rogue Trader then opened fire

And naturally, he was thrown backwards by the sheer force of using two lasguns at once. He was sent flying through the air and landed flat on his back.

So how all the lasgun bolts managed to find their target is completely beyond me.

The Ork toppled over backwards, his body riddled with fresh holes and green blood.

The lieutenant glared at us both, disgusted by the display he had just witnessed.

"You call that fighting a battle?" he muttered.

And then he noticed the last remaining Ork: He was charging across the clearing towards us. Somehow he had managed to evade all the bolts fired from myself and Xerxes.

Without waiting for another retort to emerge from my mouth, the lieutenant charged right for this green-skin.

The greenskin roared at him, his massive axe lifted above his head, all too ready to crack some skulls.

But the lieutenant had speed on his side: Before the greenskin could bring the nasty looking axe down, the lieutenant delivered the first blow.

It came in the form of a lethal uppercut to the face.

Delivered with the strength and the power of the bionic arm, the ork's enormous green face was sent reeling from the blow, sending a horrendous cracking sound resonating within earshot. In amongst the sound of crunching bone, came the sight of the green-skin's teeth being sent flying as well as several spots of green blood.

The Ork was sent reeling: The force of the blow strong enough to send him staggering backwards, all thoughts of cleaving the human with the axe seemingly forgotten.

But the lieutenant wasn't through with him yet: He was quick to make a follow up. And it came in the form of delivering a second blow with that all-powerful bionic arm. It came plunging with an incredible force into the green-skins stomach.

Again, the Ork was sent reeling backwards. But oddly enough he didn't move very far away from the lieutenant.

And then he stopped.

The lieutenant grinned a sinister grin. Then, he slowly withdrew his hand.

And that's when I saw it.

There, in amongst the lieutenant's hand was a mass of blood and flesh.

A mass that was beating.

My eyes widened. Did he just do what I think he just did……?

The lieutenant lifted the mass up to the face of the Ork. The green-skin just stared, as if in some form of realisation.

And then, the bionic hand crushed the mass.

The Ork began to topple over backwards.

But suddenly his descent was interrupted. The lieutenant, immediately shot out his bloodied bionic hand to grab the green-skin by the neck.

This was followed by an enormous crack.

This crack then prompted the lieutenant to let go and let the green-skin fall down.

"You try getting back up now" he growled.

I blinked, unable to grasp what I had just seen. What was with this guy?!

I knew I had a hatred for the Orks but I would fight them with such brutality…

Then he noticed us both lying on the ground, covered with patches of mud and blood.

"So tell me then" he said "Just how the hell have you two managed to survive like this for so long?!"

Neither the Rogue Trader nor myself spoke. Without waiting for a response, the lieutenant continued:

"Seems you two need a lesson or two in survival. Which is why you're fortunate to have met me – I can tell you both everything you need to know and then some…

"Seems like today is your lucky day…"

* * *

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	15. Tactics

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Fifteen

And that's how Pike Bishop, First Lieutenant of the 63rd Company, VIth Battalion of Catachan, came to join both Xerxes and myself on this miserable rock.

Both myself and Xerxes welcomed into our tiny force, such as it was, seeing as he made the first (and only) criteria of being a human on this Ork world.

The more the merrier….

After all, what difference does one more soul make in the hopeless life upon this miserable rock?

Really, being ambushed by those Orks was enough to convince Bishop that we were all alone on this planet and no one knew, or cared, where we were. Yet the conflict also left the former lieutenant convinced that neither Xerxes nor myself had the adequate survival skills (how we had managed to survive was completely beyond his realm of understanding), he immediately demanded that he assume the leadership role of the group. I didn't complain and neither did Xerxes. As far as we were concerned, as long there was someone who knew what they were doing then we'll both be okay.

Or at least we'll end up surviving for much longer than originally anticipated.

But truth be told, he didn't really demand a leadership role as insist.

Quite forcibly as it turned out.

And he made such intentions very clear right from the very start.

It was the morning after the ambush. I had settled in a comfortable position up in the branches of a tree – one was located in the stretch of jungle that bordered the I was sensing the first few rays of dawn-light and was gradually coming out from sub-consciousness.

But such comfort came to abrupt end.

In the form of a force that reached up, grabbed me and pulled me off the tree.

Next thing I knew I was plummeting towards the ground.

But just I arrived at this realisation, I arrived into something.

It was called the ground.

I hit the floor of the jungle with a tremendous thud. Pain immediately cruised through my body, leaving me groaning.

Talk about a rude awakening…

Now no longer anywhere near being docile, I blinked. Just what the hell happened…?

The answers came swiftly: Two boots came crashing down beside me.

I looked up only to see the face of Bishop glaring back.

"Get up soldier" he snarled.

"Whatever you say _sir_" I retorted.

I was expecting him to clip me around the ear. Or else break every bone in my face with that bionic hand of his.

But no such thing happened. Instead he merely shrugged and turned away.

I got to my feet, blinking in disbelief.

My experience within the Imperial Guard had taught me that speaking back like that was something that was taken lightly. So it was highly unlikely that Bishop would let something like that slide.

Particularly now that he has assumed command over this group of three men.

But he did.

I paused, waiting for a delayed reaction. For I all know he could be making sure I'm lured into false sense of security before he knocks me flat.

But nothing came. No uppercut, no punch to the guts, no broken nose, no breaking of arms and no kick in the balls.

Perhaps I should be thankful.

"Xerxes!" Bishop shouted, paying no attention whatsoever to me "Get your arse down here!"

My brow furrowed in thought. When he arrived to the planet, Our Fearless Leader wasn't in any way convinced that this was an Ork World. Yet it took an Ork ambush to put him right.

Thus, from the look of it, Bishop seems to have accepted fate: we were the only humans on this planet and we were well and truly stuck here.

But I have my suspicions. Considering how much scepticism Our Fearless Leader previously exhibited, I doubt that Bishop has become fully convinced of our situation so easily.

Something seems out of place here….

Just then, he turned to face me, his face bearing a black look – one powerful enough to pull me out of my reverie.

"Narc!" he growled "That moron of a Rogue Trader hasn't shown! Go find him and bring him here!"

"With pleasure" I said, grinning an evil grin.

And with that I headed towards the tree and swung my way up its branches.

I had little trouble finding Xerxes. The Rogue Trader was settled up on a thick borough, still asleep and blissfully unaware.

So I just did what I normally did. I brought my foot down into him and set him toppling out of his resting space and into space.

And then gravity did the rest.

Yes, it was the same thing done here as it was the previous morning.

And the one after that. And the one after that. And the one after that…..

Only this time was particularly sweet: I was doing it under the command of an Imperial Guard lieutenant!

(Well, _former_ Imperial Guard lieutenant)

Still, you'd think that after having the same thing done to him every morning, Xerxes would eventually wise up about it.

But at this stage it seemed highly unlikely.

I swung my way down from the tree, towards the most likely position where the Rogue Trader landed.

What I found was Xerxes' prostrate form all right but with Bishop standing beside him.

Putting the boot in.

"Get up!" he snapped "Get up you lazy bastard!"

I raised an eyebrow. Funny I thought the kick that got him out of the tree was plenty enough…

Just then, in amongst all the kicking, the Rogue Trader groaned. His voice was cracked with the annoyance of being dragged unwillingly from his sleep.

"The hell….." he mumbled.

Suddenly, Bishop leant down and grabbed Xerxes by his hair. The Rogue Trader blinked in a fashion that was both groggy and astonished.

"You overslept" Our Fearless Leader growled "Big mistake"

"What….?" Xerxes mumbled

"If myself and Narc hadn't woken you" Bishop snarled "You would've been discovered by the Orks and they would've killed you without hesitation!

"Consider yourself fortunate"

And with that he dropped the Rogue Trader.

Xerxes promptly hit the jungle floor flat on his face. He moaned softly.

"Get up and get ready both of you" Our Fearless Leader growled "We need to up and out of here before any of the Orks are aware of our presence."

And with that he strode off, into the jungle.

Xerxes continued to moan in a half-asleep fashion. But I paid little attention to him. Instead my gaze was on the departing Bishop.

My eyes hardened.

Funny, I thought abusing the imbecile of a Rogue Trader was my job…..

* * *

Some time later, we were on the move, keeping ahead of the Orks and working for something worth scavenging. I took the led with Bishop walking close behind. Xerxes however walked a short distance behind us, his unusually mouth shut expression equally unusually sullen

Hey, maybe having this lunatic lieutenant around wasn't such a bad idea

And all along the way, Our Fearless Leader grilled us both for information.

"So tell me" he said "Just how long have you two been on this planet?"

"No idea" I replied "I stopped keeping track once it became clear that I was all alone on this miserable rock"

Bishop gazed at me in a hardened fashion at me for a few moments but then he nodded.

"Makes sense" he murmured.

"How did you arrive here?" He then asked

"Through crash landing here on an Imperial escape pod"

"I assume there have been more since" he said jerking a thumb back in the Rogue Trader's direction.

I nodded.

"Xerxes arrived several days after myself" I explained "Since then, there have been a small number of Imperial Escape Pods that have crash landed here. But really such an occurrence seems to happen once every few weeks.

"I'm just baffled why more than one Escape Pod has landed here on this planet, located far beyond the reach of the Imperium"

"Some pods tend to do that" Bishop said "They aren't the most reliable things in the universe so some of them tend to be thrown from the mother-ship in a state far from intact."

"So it would seem" I muttered.

"Some escape pods may be ejected from exploding ships so thus there is the chance that they may find themselves damaged in the escape. Some escape pod crash without having a guidance system or a homing beacon activated. Others may be attacked by pirates or some other raiders.

And on some occasions, the pod may be ejected with such force that it will end up far beyond the borderline of familiar space."

"You don't say?" I murmured.

A brief silence followed.

"Say" Bishop eventually said "Where exactly are we heading?"

"To out destiny" I replied.

"What?!"

"That's what life has been on this planet" I said "There's nothing for us down here and there's next to no future off it.

"So we're just heading along, staying one step ahead of the Orks and waiting for the cold hand of death to find us"

"Haven't you made any effort to escape?"

"For what good?" I snapped "Even I did manage to escape, I will still be hunted down by the Imperium! They will find me you know."

"Even on this undiscovered planet?" Bishop countered.

I paused at this notion. Now that's what I call damn good comeback…

He does have a point there…

But then I shrugged.

"I doubt that would happen" I muttered "The way I see it, the Imperium has much greater things to worry about than some bastard they would rather see dead."

"You do know there is always the possibility that a Rogue Trader will eventually arrive on this planet" Our Fearless Leader said.

"What" I sneered, jerking a thumb back in Xerxes' direction "Idiots like him?!"

"No!" Bishop snapped "Rogue Traders who actually discover new worlds! Distinguished people under the employment of the Imperium sent out the claim new worlds in the name of the God-Emperor! And these are the type of people who do this though actually wielding a degree of power and private armies!

"You honestly don't seem to know the Rogue Traders like I know the Rogue Traders"

"Perhaps my experience with the Rogue Traders isn't the best one" I growled.

"You mean Xerxes?" Bishop said "To be honest I don't blame you"

"But still" he went on "You shouldn't dismiss the potential of this planet being discovered. If it's not by the Imperium then the Rogue traders will. They always seem to find a way into any corner of the universe"

"And even if it's not the Imperium that would be some other scum sucker" I muttered.

Another silence followed. All three of us, including Xerxes who was being remarkably silent, all continued to march onward.

To be honest, it made me wonder if Xerxes' silence was in anyway inspired by an awareness of the comments myself and Our Fearless Leader were making.

I know he was an idiot and my tolerance level for him was variable but now that the total of humans on this planet had risen to three, something about the idea of shooting him didn't seem right….

I shrugged off such thoughts. What the hell was I thinking.….?

Just then Bishop cleared his throat, thus bringing my thoughts back to the miserable rock.

"So if we're not going anywhere in particular then what exactly what do you hope to achieve on this planet?"

"Only whatever sense of freedom between now and when Death comes a-knockin'"

Our Fearless Leader blinked.

"We have complete freedom here!" I said "Away from any rules, Imperium or whatever! Sure it may be on a planet of hostile forces but all the more reason to enjoy it while it lasts!"

At this comment, Our Fearless Leader paused, his face looking deep in thought.

But then he smiled knowingly.

A smile that seemed far too sinister for my liking…

* * *

Later that day, we paused in our aimless trek, for a brief rest.

So far, there had been no encounters whatsoever – either the Orks were too busy fighting amongst themselves or we were just lucky.

We had settled in amongst a small outcrop of rocks. I had taken up a seated position, leaning against a smooth boulder whilst Xerxes had settled against a tree truck.

Bishop however, seemed in no mood for resting – instead he remained standing, his senses on full alert

I cast a worried eye in his direction. He should really learn to relax.

"So tell me" he said suddenly "How the hell have you two idiots been managing to survive for so long?!"

"Guerrilla tactics" I said

"Explain them!" he barked.

"Huh?" I blinked.

"What do you mean 'huh?'?!" Bishop snapped "Do you two have a plan?! How else have you been surviving this long?!"

"Well it's quite simple: In the event that we encounter any Orks, we merely prepare to ambush them – It's not you're going to miss them wandering around out there anyway.

"In any case, we usually reside in whatever cover we can and strike them using our one advantage of stealth: Usually we follow a group of Orks undercover and pick them off one at a time. Anywhere else, we just rely on our guns, our wits and our speed."

Bishop paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought.

But then he looked at us both with a mean gaze.

"Forget your plan" he said sharply "I'm going to give you both a new one"

I blinked. Even the Rogue Trader looked up.

"What?" I said

"Are you for real?" Xerxes added.

"Hey, don't look at me" Our Fearless Leader snapped back "Wasn't it a group decision to give me the role of leader in this group?!

"I'm the leader here and I'm going make some changes around here! I can tell you now that, unlike you two imbeciles, I know what I'm doing"

Xerxes and I exchanged bewildered looks but neither of us said anything.

He could've fooled me.

Unopposed, Our Fearless Leader continued:

"You know what you both need?" he said "You two need new strategies. If we are the only humans here then survival is of the utmost importance!"

"No idea as to what good that will do" I muttered.

Bishop fixed me with a dirty look – but strangely enough he continued unhindered:

"So then" he said "Who can tell me about our enemy on this planet, the Orks? Someone tell me what they know!"

"They're slow, stupid, and brutal and have no concept of tactics at all" I muttered.

"Exactly!" Bishop grinned, with a snap of his fingers "And in that sense, we have the potential to outdo them in all departments"

Somehow I doubted that will be a challenge….

"So, what you do you have in mind, Warmaster?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Our Fearless Leader's eyebrow twitched. But amazingly he still carried on:

My eyes hardened. I had no idea how he was able to keep on talking, regardless of the potent in the smart-arse remarks I was making. I was surprised he hadn't floored me already with both that bionic arm and that hair trigger temper of his

Surely there was no way I was able to get away with this….

"I'll tell you what I have in mind" he said "We are going to change our approach to fighting all of our battles! I want a difference in our tactics, the process in which we set up ambushes and the way we fight our battles!

"I want us to change our attacks and make them faster! This difference in speed is the one of the major factors that we have over the Orks and I want to use to it's full potential!"

Xerxes and myself exchanged glances.

"The way I see it, if we combine ultra fast attacks with our other great advantage, the element of surprise, we can strike the Orks with so much speed they wouldn't have a clue what's happening!"

"That's a great idea" I said, sarcastically "There's only one thing wrong as far as I can see"

Bishop glared at me with a murderous gaze.

"And what would that be?" he growled, his voice growing soft and purring.

The type one would find when being confronted at gunpoint by an Eldar Ranger.

"The methods we have been using have working just fine!" I said "Taking them out one at a time at a pace long enough to spread dissension and confusion among them! I see no point in giving up on something that works so well"

"Is that a fact?" Our Fearless Leader purred, his voice resonating with what was all to clear a homicidal intent….

This wasn't looking too good on my end.

"I am the boss here" Bishop said "Need I remind you of that fact?"

"Well I…"

I didn't get a chance to begin for he immediately cut me off:

"And need I remind that I am only the boss because you two agreed to it?"

"Yes but…."

Suddenly, Bishop strode over, a black look written across his face. He stopped within several feet of me.

"Seems I suspected correctly" he growled "You're in dire need of a reminder"

And then it happened.

A massive crack resonated out throughout the jungle and everything went white. I could feel myself tumbled off my feet and come crashing down onto my back.

My mind was in a daze, but it didn't take a Tech Priest of Mars to work out what had just happened. He'd brought his bionic arm up and across my face.

My jaw throbbed with an incredible pain – he certainly must posses a potent punch in that damn device….

I blinked as shapes slowly grow back into focus. I was immediately confronted with the sight of Xerxes blinking at me in a curious manner.

And Our Fearless Leader glaring with absolute contempt.

"Now, are there any other objections?" Bishop asked glaring at Xerxes.

The Rogue Trader blinked but he quickly shook his head, obviously knowing what is good for him.

"Well now" Our Fearless Leader said "Let's get to it. Immediately"

And with that, he turned and headed off into the jungle.

Xerxes looked after him before looking at me. He shrugged before following.

I blinked, my back on the jungle floor and my eyes staring into space.

So this is his way of getting things done? Through thuggery?

Oh it's certainly going to be heaps of fun being ordered around by him…

* * *

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	16. Weapons

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Sixteen

Following that altercation, Bishop immediately set about instigating his plan for attacking the Orks.

And he did it in a fashion that was similar to an all-too familiar Imperial parade.

Both Xerxes and myself stood to attention in front of a large rock. Nearby, Bishop paced around in circles.

I couldn't believe any of this: Was this really that necessary? It's not like anyone from the Imperium will ever notice us carrying on in an undisciplined manner.

Nor will they ever care.

Bishop fixed us both with a dirty look.

"Present arms!" he barked.

Immediately, I pulled out both my bolt pistols and engaged the safety catch. I then held them before me, barrels aimed to the ground.

I don't know why I bothered but I was acting on an impulse built upon years of military experience.

Xerxes promptly handled his lasgun in a similar fashion, also ready for inspection.

Where did he pick up such mannerisms? He never served in the military.

Unless there's something he's not telling me.

But then again, since when have I had a reason to believe any of the nonsense Xerxes said?

It was only later that it occurred to me that being a master of deceit, he was picking up on my mannerisms and copying me.

Bishop glared at my bolt pistols.

"Are these the only weapons you have?" he demanded "Bring out everything you have!"

Acting on an instinct that insisted that all orders issued must be obeyed, I promptly set my pistols down on the rock in front of me. This was followed by a pair of knives (one from the inside of my boot and the other unsheathed from a scabbard set in my belt) and a number of hand-made grenades that resided within the inside of my coat.

Our Fearless Leader gazed at the items, his eyes radiating with scepticism.

"You have some knives" he said slowly "Handy things they are"

He then fixed me with a hard gaze.

"Your bolt pistols will come in handy in killing the Orks in close quarters. Your knife will do be effective in stabbing them when the green-skins least expect it.

"And just the hell are these things?" he growled, observing my home-made explosives.

"They would be grenades" I answered

"They certainly are the funniest looking grenades I have ever seen" Bishop growled, his voice radiating with scepticism.

"They are made with whatever material I could find" I said "And considering where we are, that's certainly saying a lot"

Our Fearless Leader blinked. Then he picked up one of them.

Then, without warning, he threw it!

The grenade struck a nearby tree where it detonated with tremendous force. The tree was engulfed in an explosion and the three of us were blown off our feet. Showers of leaves followed soon after.

After a brief pause I looked up, my eyes blinking.

The tree had been completely vaporised. All that was left was a smoking black stump. All around were pieces of bark as well as several pieces of scorched twigs and some singed leaves. The nearby trees suffered similarly, bearing blackened trunks and missing several leaves.

I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed. It started making me wonder just how many soldiers short of platoon Our Fearless Leader was.

Perhaps I should start taking bets on who will kill us all first….

I looked over at Xerxes. He too was getting up off the ground, his facial expression one of complete disbelief.

Bishop however looked really pleased with the devastation.

"Well now" he grinned "It would seem you're right: They are grenades"

My eyes widened in disbelief.

"And they work too!" he went on "I think I may have a use for them

"So yes we'll keep them. Reckon you'll be able to make a few more?"

"Depends on what I can find that I can use" I said slowly.

Bishop raised an eyebrow at this but he said nothing more.

He then turned to Xerxes.

"And what would this be?' he muttered, eyeing his lasgun.

"A lasgun I believe" the Rogue Trader replied.

"A working lasgun?"

"Last time I checked, yes"

Bishop's brow furrowed but he said nothing.

He then proceeded to eye Xerxes up and down.

"I see you have some these so-called grenades" he muttered, noting several of them attached to Xerxes' belt.

"Only used in emergencies" the Rogue Trader replied.

"Seems you have access to more resources than you're telling me" Our Fearless Leader growled at me.

I said nothing.

"Oh hello, what's this?" he then said.

He was eyeing something that was slung over Xerxes' back. It was the flamer that we had discovered from the ruined escape pod several days earlier.

Xerxes promptly pulled the gun over his shoulder and into view.

"It's still in good working order" The Rogue Trader grinned.

Bishop however didn't smile.

"It seems that way" he mused "And it's the most powerful weapon we have, excluding the grenades……"

He paused for a moment.

"But no" he said eventually "We won't use it. We need weapons that are long-ranged, silent and effective at killing green-skins quickly and easily.

"It's important that we strike the Orks first before they can make the first attack. We need to make quick killings when all of the Orks are too busy being confused.

"This is our one advantage over the Orks! We should use to its full potential!

"Furthermore" he went on "We should not leave any trace of our presence on the planet at any time – The Orks must not know that we are here! Doing so will mean that we will lose vital ground over them!"

"Well, they're certainly going to notice that" I muttered, nodding towards the basted stump.

Bishop fixed me with an evil look.

"Tell me" he growled "Seeing as you're the best expert on the green-skins of this planet, do the Orks have any flame weapons?"

"Not that I know of"

"Exactly!" Bishop snapped "So if we used the flamer, all the Orks may find will be scorched earth, the scent of burning fuel and some of their comrades running around with their flesh alight!

"If they saw devastation like this" he said gesturing towards the stump "They might mistake it for the work of one of their own!"

We both issued no further reply.

There's nothing like the honest truth to win an argument.

* * *

Bishop didn't waste any time in implementing this new method of fighting. He immediately sought out some Orks just so he could see what we could both do.

And such a task didn't prove to be in any way difficult.

A group of Orks were located roaming around within the jungle. They didn't seem to be any different from the rest of the green-skins. They were all armed with huge axes and crudely fashioned weapons that resembled boltguns, they were the most shambled of armour and they were all intent on making as much noise and destruction as possible.

We three watched them wander through the jungle, following them a short distance and keeping well out of sight.

Not that they had a hope in hell of noticing us anyway.

We all lay in the cover of the undergrowth, weapons at the ready. Xerxes had his lasgun propped up in the fashion of a sniper rifle.

I counted about ten Orks. This was the largest group we had ever encountered.

I wasn't liking the looks of this: Usually, we would attack smaller groups, favouring number of five or six, as befit the fact that was only Xerxes and myself.

But ten?! Bishop certainly loves loading up the tough challenges.

Or he must be sure of himself – because the prospect of ten Orks taken out by just Xerxes and myself is doubtful.

I sure hope he can pull something out of the bag.

"So boys" Bishop growled "Lesson starts now. Show me what you've got!"

"Sure" I replied.

And nothing happened.

Our Fearless Leader blinked

Still nothing happened.

"Excuse me?" he growled "What the hell are you two doing?"

"We're waiting for the perfect moment to strike" I answered.

"Really?" Bishop snapped back "Well guess what: We're not doing things your way any more! We're doing everything my way!

"You say you want the perfect time to strike: Well I say that time is the instant you see your foe! You don't wait around: You kill him on the spot! And this case, that time is now!"

He turned to Xerxes, who was watching all action down the barrel of his lasgun.

"Well then" Our Fearless Leader said "Seeing as your companion seems to favour biding his time, how about you show me how good you are with that rifle?"

He pointed to the nearest Ork.

"See that one? Take him down!"

"What now?" Xerxes inquired.

"Yes now!" Bishop growled "What you more do you want, a written invitation?!"

Xerxes hesitated – but then suddenly he stiffened. It seemed that his ears had picked up the sound of tiny gears whirling – the sound that could only have come from an Imperial-made bionic arm growing closer and closer.

The face of the Rogue Trader increased with both alarm and apprehension.

I mentally cursed.

Intimidation – it's the Imperial CO's best method of getting someone to do something.

And it's a method that many of Imperial CO's are proud to call a friend

As such, Xerxes needed little persuasion to pull the trigger.

The lasgun fired, sending a bolt into the skull of the Ork. It slammed into the back of his skull, sending him off his feet and crashing to the ground.

I had to admit, he was certainly able to deal such a good shot considering he was operating under such pressure.

"That's our cue!" Bishop yelled to me "Get out there!"

Grabbing my coat with his human hand, he pulled me out of the undergrowth and into battle.

Immediately all of the Orks turned to face these intruders.

"Don't just stand there!" Our Fearless Leader roared "Kill the bastards!

"NOW!"

Geez, talk about making a quick attack. I knew I could come up with some that worked but this guy was looking for something hundred times more quicker.

Without any thought of hesitation, I immediately charged, my twin bolt pistols blazing. At such close range I couldn't miss. The nearest Ork couldn't withstand being hit by several bolt shells and his head exploded.

In the end I can't really complain. It's not like I'll ever tire of killing so many Orks.

I then heard an all-too familiar click – one of the cartridges in my bolt pistol was empty.

Oh don't you just hate it when that happens.…..

Acting quickly, I raised my other pistol before me and kept firing.

Thus sending another Ork falling flat on his face.

My other hand placed the empty pistol into my coat and substituted it for my knife.

So Bishop wants me to use it eh? Fine by me!

A fourth ork approached me, an enormous axe at the ready. I got my knife ready.

When suddenly I heard the distinctive thud of a lasgun bolt hitting home.

This was followed by the rather distasteful sight of the Ork's head exploding.

The next thing I saw was a mess of bone, blood and green skin come hurtling towards me. It struck me in the face, leaving my skin dripping with messy, stinky gunk.

I groaned – if Bishop thinks that making Xerxes into a sniper is a good idea then I'm sure glad he thinks so.

I cast a quick eye at Our Fearless Leader. He was already into the thick of it: He had charged into battle and proceeded to challenge the nearest Ork. Before the ork could swing this axe, Bishop had come up and reached out with his bionic arm. And, within the space of several seconds, he had reached out and grasped the Ork's hideous face by the clawed fingers that made up his hand.

And what happened next happened very quickly.

Using the power of his artificial hand, Bishop's fingers plunged it's way into the Ork's skull. With a sickening crack, the hand penetrated the bone. This promptly stopped the green-skin dead in his tracks.

And when I say I mean dead.

For Bishop was in no way through with the green-skin: he suddenly thrust his hand with so much force that it actually went deep into the Ork;s skull. The fingers even so way that they managed to penetrate their way into the ork's brain.

I knew this based upon the way that the green-skin's body went limp.

But considering how minuscule ork intellect is, I'm surprised that Bishop managed to find the brain.

Our Fearless Leader pulled his hand back, thus allowing the Ork to fall to the floor.

He then cast an angry eye at me.

"Narc!" he shouted "What the hell you doing down there?! Get off your arse and get fighting!!"

I blinked.

Then I got to my feet: Another Ork was coming and looking ready to pulverise my head in.

But I had other ideas.

Most of them dealt with my continued survival.

Using quick movements, I got to my feet – just as the Ork loomed above me. Acting quickly, I immediately thrust one of my bolt pistols underneath his chin.

And pulled the trigger.

The Ork's head exploded, in a mass of bone, green flesh and green blood.

I then quickly dodged out of the way – who wants a face full of such a disgusting mess?!

Oh and a massive Ork toppling down upon them.

As I scrambled out of the way, my ears caught the sound of a lasgun being fired. This was followed by the scream of an Ork being cut down.

That would make it about three left I would think……

The remaining three were just ahead. All of them however had grown aware of the unexpected arrival of us humans and were readying their crude bolt guns.

With their firing abilities I don't know if any of them really expected to hit us.

But considering how much ammunition the Orks are renowned for firing, it certainly doesn't stop them from trying!

I cast my eye at Bishop: he had dived into cover of some nearby foliage. There he lay, with his lasgun primed and ready before him. Already he was opening fire on the remaining Orks.

He then turned to me with a ruthless glare.

"Narc you useless bucket of Eldar vomit!" he shouted "Get off your arse and get firing! You took so damn trying to kill them that they're retaliating!"

Suddenly things took a significantly nasty turn.

The shouting had somehow attracted something with the attention capacity of the Orks. Looking around, they then noticed that all of the humans they supposed to be firing at had disappeared.

All but one.

And before I knew it, three pairs of red eyes all turned to me.

"What the hell are you doing out?!" Bishop roared "You're a sitting duck!!"

And the next thing I knew, I was confronted with the sight of three boltgun barrels being aimed towards me.

I could feel my hands growing sweaty. But at the same time, I could also feel the grip of my bolt pistol.

As well as the handle of my knife.

Without hesitation, the Orks quickly opened fire.

Hey they're Orks – was it any surprise they did so when they were the type who attacked without hesitation?

But then again, with such a mindset they're certainly doing a lot better than me.

I quickly dove to the ground brining myself out of the way of the line of fire. As I did so, I threw my knife.

As I hit the ground, my deadly projectile struck the nearest Ork in the eye. The green-skin staggered backwards, his bolt-gun wavering around in all directions.

It then took only a lasgun bolt from Bishop to finish him off.

From my prostrate position, I then took aim at the remaining two Orks with my bolt pistol. Neither of them seemed to be aware of this: They were still shooting off all their ammunition in the haphazard of fashion.

It made me wonder of they noticed that they weren't really shooting at anything any more.

But it didn't matter to me: I fired my pistol, promptly filling one of them with holes.

The Ork fell down with a large crash. I then turned my attention to the other one.

But I needn't have bothered: A bolt from Xerxes' lasgun beat me to the kill.

With all the Orks dead, I paused for breath, my eyes going upward towards the blue sky above.

Well, looks like I survived again. Strangely enough I had did it at a much slower, and indeed unusual, pace than usual. I guess this time was different because I had an audience in the form of a psychotic former Imperial Guard lieutenant.

In any case, I don't really want to know what he thought of my performance.

Not that I cared anyway.

The next thing I knew I was confronted by the ever smiling face of Our Fearless Leader.

"Is that how you get things done here?' he asked.

"More or less" I said.

And suddenly, without warning Bishop went berserk:

"That was absolutely PATHETIC!" he roared "If you fight all your battles like that then it's been a God-Emperor given miracle how you idiots have managed to survive this long!!"

"I guess he moves in mysterious ways" I sneered.

He fixed with a murderous glare before he reached down and grabbed me by the front of my shirt.

"You know" he growled "For someone who has been valuing the principal of 'getting someone before they get you' you're certainly doing a poor job of it"

"Don't look at me" I retorted "I'm just delaying the inevitable"

"I should cut you down right here, right now"

I wasn't liking the direction this conversation was heading: It seemed to me that Our Fearless Leader wouldn't think twice about slitting my throat.

Or break my arms.

But then again, considering how long I've been fighting Orks, why should one grumpy, psychotic former Imperial Guard lieutenant of homicidal intent bother me?

"You do that but you'll find that you can't order around corpses" I said firmly.

Bishop seethed but his hand loosened their grip.

Just then, Xerxes came out from the bushes.

"What's going on here?' he demanded.

"I've been assessing the performance of the pair of you" Bishop answered "And it would seem that we have got to make some drastic changes around here…"


	17. Desertion

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Seventeen

What followed over the next few days was Bishop enforcing his new methods of battle tactics onto both myself and Xerxes. So both myself and the Rogue Trader took to making the most fastest of attacks and using whatever weapons we had at our disposal.

It was a bold plan and it certainly took some effort to adapt to it. But, within time, both the combat skills of myself and Xerxes began improving. Under Bishop's watchful eye, the Rogue Trader assumed the role of a sniper: His role was to remain concealed within any cover and to assist both Bishop and myself by taking out any Orks as quickly and quietly as possible. As well as being educated in using a rifle in a sniper fashion, Xerxes was also taught several skills in what to do should he attacked in close range. As well as being equipped with a pistol and a knife, Bishop also made sure that Xerxes had some steel-capped boots (the boots themselves were capped, rather crudely, with metal salvaged from the Orks. Shoddy yes but they got the job done).

Meanwhile, Bishop fashioned me into a combatant, with the task of getting into the thick of the action. As such, it then became my task to engage the green-skins in combat with my twin bolt pistols and my knife. I was fashioned into become both a killing machine effective in slaying the green-skins with clean and quick efficiency and the last thing green-skins will ever see in their lifetime. In recognising my fighting skills forged through experience within the Imperial Guard, Bishop saw me to be someone who could crack heads effectively and someone who he could rely on for reliability in combat situations.

But to be honest it was most likely he could have some unfortunate bastard wrapped easily around his finger.

Nevertheless, both Xerxes and myself were now presented with a brand plan for survival. Of course, it was implemented right away but, naturally, it didn't really take off immediately. Of course we had to practice and perfect this plan using whatever groups of Orks we chanced upon in the jungle – no worry to that as there seemed to be no shortage of useful targets. But, after a number of days, the three of us managed to perfect our plan. We had evolved into mere shadows, ready the deal death from afar and up close, and being able strike at such speed that any target would die without even knowing what had them.

Of course, it did hinder my plan of dying a glorious death in battle but I would rather save that for an even greater occasion.

Preferably fighting a real horde of enemies.

Enemies who are a more worthy challenge than these scum-sucking green-skins.

Yet in spite of his tough training regime, Bishop would also encourage us both to talk more. No doubt he wanted a degree of trust established so we could all rely on each other in the heat of combat.

Personally, I wouldn't trust any type of scum-sucker that was in anyway like the two morons I have to work with but I guess I don't have choice.

Besides, it's not that I have much else to do anyway.

One such instance occurred one particular evening: As the sun was slowly setting, Bishop took us up to the top of a mountain. Already the sun was sitting, igniting an impressive display of oranges and reds.

But, as with Bishop, we didn't come here to admire the sunset.

"Narc?" he said "I want to know how you got on this planet"

I raised an eyebrow at this rather unusual request. But then again I had far more sense than to argue with someone like Bishop.

"I was on a prison ship headed for the Penal Legion, having been charged with desertion. The ship was attacked by Dark Eldar but I somehow managed to escape through the use of an escape pod"

Our Fearless Leader pondered on this account.

"And your charges of desertion?"

"Falsely attributed"

To this, he blinked before eventually nodding.

"So tell me Xerxes" Bishop then asked, turning his attention away from me "How did you come to this planet?"

I mentally groaned. He sure took a bad choice of question in trying to extract information out of the Rogue Trader.

So far, it had been several weeks since Bishop arrived to this miserable rock. So far, his strict training procedure was in full swing and so far he was certainly extracting results from both myself and Xerxes. Yet it had only been in the past three days that he started to go ahead with this 'trust' plan of his.

That being said, you'd think he would've been on this planet long enough to know that Xerxes is not the most truthful person in the universe.

"It's funny you should mention that" the Rogue Trade grinned "I came here purely by accident. I crash landed here on an escape pod"

At least he's given this latest story an honest beginning.

"What were you running from"? Bishop demanded.

"I was fleeing from a ruined ship! My ship was being raided by Ork Freebooter Pirates! They attacked us with such numbers that my crew never had any chance to fight back! They all smashed their way through my ship destroying everything they came across! This included my cargo!"

It was clear as mud that he was lying but I still had to give him credit: He said all of this without breaking a sweat.

Even faced with someone of dangerous intent like Bishop.

"And what was this cargo?" Our Fearless Leader inquired.

"It was an enormous crate containing a whole lot of rare gemstones. The orks had little difficulty finding and gleefully plundered their greedy way through the whole lot of it"

"A Rogue Trader ship carrying rare gemstones?" Bishop mused "That's a new one"

"I was working on a commission with the black market" the Rogue Trader responded "I was being hired by a renegade human to transport them to a secret location. I was being paid an impressive amount of creds for this delivery!"

"How much?"

"Around five million"

"And who was paying you, this renegade?"

"Zhukov. Grigori Zhukov"

"I've heard of him" Bishop remarked "He's a famous crime lord, wanted across several planets for many charges of murder and theft"

"So why did you abandon your ship?" he then asked "I've never heard of a Rogue Trader Captain who would abandon both his ship and his cargo when it was under attack. I always thought they would fight to the bitter end"

"Well I did" Xerxes retorted. "The thing is the captain of the Orks recognised me. I think his name was Kaptin Nashbad…."

Both Bishop and I exchanged dubious glances.

"Anyway, being a freebooter pirate Nashbad knew me through my reputation as a Rogue Trader. So, whilst he killed all of my crew, he however spared me"

"He didn't kill you?" Our Fearless Leader said, his tone of voice indicating that he was having difficulty believing such nonsense.

But Xerxes didn't seem to pick up on this.

"Yes. Like I said, he recognised me. But he came to the realisation that rather than kill me he thought it would much more satisfying to humiliate me and achieve bragging rights. So he ejected me in an escape pod and I landed here"

There was a nasty silence.

"So that's your story is it?" Bishop turned to me

"Yes" the Rogue Trader replied, his voice brimming with sincerity and confidence.

"And you're sticking to it?"

"Absolutely!"

Our Fearless Leader than turned to me.

"What really happened?"

"He was just a lowly crewman on a some Rogue Trader ship. His craft was boarded by the Imperial navy and he just jumped ship"

Upon hearing this, Xerxes' face fell to the ground.

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" Bishop muttered.

"What?!" the Rogue Trader spluttered "You believe that? What was it about my account that you found difficult to grasp?!"

"You lost me on the part about you not getting killed by the Orks" Our Fearless Leader growled.

"Makes me wish there were Orks there that actually did kill him" I murmured.

Fortunately for me, neither of my companions noticed.

But what happened next I couldn't have predicated.

Bishop advanced towards Xerxes, a stern look on his face.

Suddenly, with a whirl of mechanised gears from his bionic arm, Our Fearless Leader grabbed the Rogue Trader underneath the jaw!

Xerxes' face melted into a look of absolute horror. His expression grew ever paler as the steel fingers sunk their way into his muscles. His eyes grew ever frightened as Bishop lifted him at least off the ground, all by the sheer power of his bionic arm. His feet began squirming and his hands tried to reach for the former lieutenant. But from the look of it, he couldn't mange any other movement through being paralysed with fear.

"You made a grave error mistake in lying to me Mister Xerxes" Bishop snarled.

Then with his free hand, Our Fearless Leader drove vicious blow into the Rogue Trader's stomach.

The full impact of the blow sent Xerxes' body flying out backwards. But, as his head was still encased within the tight grip of Bishop's bionic hand, he didn't really go anywhere. Instead his body blew backwards before eventually sagging back. Amazingly, never once did Bishop's grip lessen. He still held into the Rogue Trader by his face, never showing any sign of letting go.

Extreme pain was written across Xerxes face. His facial muscles were turning red and his eyes appeared to be growing moist. No doubt, Bishop's crunching blow had winded him.

But unfortunately for the Rogue Trader, this punishment was only just beginning.

"I am trying to build up a bond of trust here between us" Our Fearless Leader went on "But you just don't seem able to cooperate"

And with that he sent another blow into Xerxes' guts. Again he went flying and again Bishop refused to let go.

"We need to function as a team" Bishop snarled "Because that is only way we're ever going to survive out here in this hellhole.

"We need trust I tell you!" he then roared. "And you can't expect such a bond to be established if you persist with telling such damn lies!

I was so glad that Bishop seemed to have forgotten about me for the moment: It was extremely difficult not to crack up at the sheer absurdity of this situation.

But somehow I choose to keep quiet. After all, I had no interest in being where Xerxes is at the moment.

"Either you stop with your inane lies or I declare you unfit for risking my arse for" Bishop growled "You know what that means?"

"What?" Xerxes manage to blurt out.

"It means that I break your neck right here, right now" came the dead serious reply "In this game of constant survival I need everyone here to function at their full potential. I can't have anyone around who'll turn into a liability!"

It's always reassuring to know that Our Fearless Leader is such a benevolent soul.

"You kill me and the Orks will find my body!" Xerxes blurted.

I had to give him credit: That retort was obviously inspired by desperation but to say something like that took a lot of balls.

Especially when one is in a situation such as the one Xerxes currently found himself in.

But a large amount of balls isn't any substitute for brains.

Bishop promptly responded to this counter by delivering yet another cruel blow with his arm. Only this one struck in a horizontal arc, with the knife-edge of the former lieutenant's hand. And at the same time, inescapable to those without a killer-trained eye as myself, Bishop's artificial fingers loosened their just as the natural hand reached its target. And such was the force of the blow that the hapless Xerxes was sent flying out from the grip of Bishop's bionic hand and into the air. The Rogue Trader than came crashing down onto the gravel with a tremendous thud.

"You really think that'll present itself as a bother to me?" Bishop sneered "If I killed you I would just roast you corpse and leave you here as charcoal! If the Orks ever discover upon your charred remains, they would think you're one of their own!"

Xerxes moaned with pain.

"Are you going to tell any more damn lies ever again?"

The Rogue Trader said nothing, save for some moaning sounds.

"ARE YOU?!" Bishop thundered.

"I won't!" Xerxes somehow managed to yell "I swear I won't tell another lie as long as I live!"

Our Fearless Leader paused, gazing down at the Rogue Trader with ruthless glare.

"Then see that you don't" he growled.

Yes, this was building trust the Bishop way: Beating your associates into a pulp.

What can I say? He certainly has my undivided trust.

If anything, I would rather have him protecting my arse against the Orks than have him breaking every bone in my body.

"Well then" Our Fearless Leader than declared "Now that we've learnt something about each other, it seems that we've established a degree of trust within this group

"Hopefully now we can rely on each other in future"

I looked at him and then at Xerxes who was picking himself up off the ground. My eyes hardened.

"Wise notion" I said "Only one thing wrong there, though"

Bishop blinked – but it didn't take before his facial expression grew hostile.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know how we got here" I replied "But neither Xerxes nor myself know how _you_ got here"

Judging by his immediate change in facial expression, Our Fearless Leader was taken aback by this statement. But it didn't take long before his eyes to grow defensive.

"I came here in a shuttle" he snapped "One that's currently rotting at the bottom of a lake somewhere.

"You two know that! You made me ditch it there!"

"That is indeed true" Xerxes said, as he dusted himself off "But that doesn't explain how you managed to obtain that shuttle. Nor what you're doing this far beyond Imperial Space all by yourself"

"How can we be sure you're leading us on?" I sneered "Leading us into a trap or something worse?"

"You're in any position to debate this!" Bishop snapped "Being the only humans on this planet and needing to rely on each other to survive!"

"Big words from someone who wanted to kill Xerxes a while ago" I shot back.

Bishop blinked stunned by the rapid nature of my comeback.

I nodded toward Xerxes, who calmly primed and checked his lasgun.

Our Fearless Leader sighed with defeat.

"Perhaps our commander, who values trust so much should practise what he prea-"

I never got to finish my sentence for I was cut off with a lethal uppercut from Bishop. I went falling over backwards and crashing down onto my back.

"Watch your mouth _private_" he sneered.

Then he cleared his throat.

"Now that I have your undivided attention…" he began

* * *

And Bishop told both Xerxes and myself his story. And what an extraordinary story it turned out to be.

Of course, having spent so much time around Xerxes, it would be far too easy of me to write it off as complete and utter bullshit. But to me, Bishop's each and every one of Bishop's words radiated with a sense of sincerity.

That and the fear that he, unlike Xerxes, will most likely break every bone in my body if I wasn't in any way convinced by his story.

However, even if his story was somewhat different, it did start out predictable. Bishop was born and raised on the wretched jungle planet Catachan. Being situated in a one of the most infamous hell-holes in the entire universe (perhaps even worse than this one), honed his fighting skills from an early age and made him fight a constant battle for survival.

How things change….

Eventually however such development of fighting skills eventually forged him into a warrior of brutal reputation was enough to grant him admission into the Imperial Guard.

Fun story yes but most of it already it confirmed what we figured out for ourselves.

Still, whilst Bishop didn't bother explaining his military career in its entirety, he did reveal some interesting highlights: He fought in the infamous Tyranid invasion of Ichar IV, he played a part in the overthrow of the traitor Governor Steiner and he even participated in the Third War of Armageddon

One particular highlight however was this one time when Bishop managed to achieve a degree of distinction that he was assigned to the wasted planet of Necromunda. This task was based around the difficult mission of hunting a renegade wyrd on the behalf of one Menenius Agrippa, an Ordo Hereticus Inqusitor. Bishop did this by posing as a bounty hunter and survived only on his finely tuned battle senses. The battle was long and hard and it cost Bishop an arm. But he did however manage to hunt down, and capture, the wyrd and was rewarded with Inquisitor Agrippa granting a recommendation for him to be promoted to lieutenant (although I personally can't see anyone wanting to be willing enough to argue with the Ordo Hereticus)

Admittedly, whilst I had no doubt of the honesty in Bishop's words, I must this portion of the story had such beliefs challenged: Being a resident of the wretched Hive World of Necromunda, I can honestly say that there was no way in hell that someone who grew up in a jungle world would've survived ten minutes in a hive world. And he captured a wyrd? Unlikely: Those were the type of people who resorted to hiding away from everyone else (more often than not for their own safety) and, when they were found, were capable of producing some of the most powerful psychic powers that could wipe out large numbers within a matter of seconds.

Indeed my recollections of the wyrds were that they were a rare sight but thankfully, for everyone, they remained that way.

Of course, the God-Emperor only knows how Xerxes managed to deal with the Ordo Hereticus without them keeping their accusing eyes on him….

Needless to say, having been assigned a high ranking position, Bishop certainly managed to take to it with ease: He displayed some degree of tactical finesse but he was particularly skilled in giving out orders and keeping the men in his charge in line.

How things change….

However, his career as a CO had been cut short when he was assigned on a rescue mission on a planet called Sterpes II. This particular planet had already proven to be host to an uprising of a Chaos Cult of Tzeentch. Although the whole planet had already fallen to the cult, there was, however, a small group of the populace who were still loyal to the Emperor and were in need of rescuing before they were torn apart by the cultists.

Thus, Bishop was instructed to rescue this group in question. Heading a small group of men, he was dispatched to Sterpes II to evacuate the loyal portion of the population so a much larger force could be sent to deal with the cultists.

When Bishop arrived, he quickly located the loyalists and set about transporting them off planet. Everything was running smoothly but within time, the guardsmen were ambushed by a group of cultists. The guardsmen had been caught off guard and, as such, couldn't focus on the cultists. Thus, both the guardsmen and the people they were sent to rescue wound getting mercilessly slaughtered.

Bishop was in the middle of this disaster. All around him he could see his men getting butchered, the screams of the dying and this entire operation going to hell. And during that chaos, something in his mind snapped: Suddenly, he charged towards the enemy, screaming wildly and firing his boltgun into both friend and foe alike. Blinded with a bloodlust that would've made a Champion of Khorne proud, Bishop mowed through the cultists and his soldiers with the strength of a madman. Anything that moved, he blew apart with a second thought. He didn't care what he shot just as long as he killed it! He will teach those Tzeentch bastards to mess with his operation! He will teach them to mess with the soldiers of the Imperium!!!!

Eventually, he paused, his breathing heavy and his flesh caked with blood. There was nothing left he could see that moved. Slowly, his blood-lust died down and he surveyed the scene of devastation before him.

(Of course, this account may sound odd but here I'm just recounting what Our Fearless Leader told me. It's nothing to do with me if he was a way with words)

Before him was a mountain of bodies: In amongst the bodies of the cultists were the bodies of his own soldiers and the loyal humans he had sent to rescue.

Bishop dropped his boltgun as realisation hit. His eyes grew from furious to shock. He then few to his knees, raising his hands to his face.

He knew then that his mission had failed.

And Tzeentch had the planet now.

However, he also knew that he couldn't go back: Should he do so, he would be arrested and charged with insubordination. And then, he would be doomed to a future in the Penal Legion.

So, he fled Sterpes II. He hijacked the rescue shuttle and departed from the planet as fast as he could. Eventually, either through by accident or design, he wound up here.

Where he met Xerxes and myself

* * *

Next Chapter  
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	18. Fortress

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Eighteen

So that was how Bishop joined this group of idiots.

But of course, what was happen next was both myself and the Rogue Trader would suffer under this idiot commander.

Sure we now had someone who provided proper guidance and had a general idea of what he was doing. But just because he knew what was doing didn't mean that Xerxes and myself agreed with him.

Naturally, I had little respect for Our Fearless Leader and his regime which he enforced on us all did little to change it.

Having learnt of Bishop's story, I can't say my rate of respect for him changed in any way. I just curse the ways of fate that I met him here instead of the Penal Legion.

At least there he would wield no power whatsoever.

And he would've had a greater chance of dying long before me.

Yet over the course of the several days that he had been in this company, I could feel my perception of Our Fearless Leader slowly change: It had begun an evolution into some sort of respect (or most likely into something that resembled it). In spite of whatever contempt I held for him, I had to admit that Bishop is a superb fighter in his own right and an ingenious tactician.

That being said, I still have to admit that the best thing that Bishop has provided to both myself and Xerxes is a willingness to cooperate: Sure he abused his with his horrid training regime but it was within our own terms. Those terms being that we are all on the run, we have nowhere else to go and we pretty much stranded on a planet as an Imperium of Man, one which abandoned all three of us, goes about its business unaware.

Of course, such terms weren't ours by choice but at least he's seeing things our way.

As such, he never once has tried to make a break for it. Neither has he tried to kill us or made any attempt to recover the shuttle of his which we abandoned at the bottom of that lake.

Yes, a likely sign of some degree of comradeship.

Or most likely we've been travelling for so long that he can't remember where the lake was.

I have asked him about it, once or twice, and he claims it is still in working order – even when it's been spending so long at the bottom of the lake, it's unlikely it'll be damaged (that's Imperial manufacturing for you). However, myself, Bishop and Xerxes all know that there is no point trying to use it. So we've just left it in its hiding place - on this planet where none of us, including the Orks, will ever find it. Of course, all three of us realise that should any of us escape, there is nothing that waits for us in the rest of the galaxy. Nothing except for the prospect of being arrested by the Imperial Forces and then being deported back to the Penal Legion.

That being said, we never talk about the shuttle Bishop used to get here.

* * *

However, at the same time, it eventually occurred to me that Bishop is something of a ruthless perfectionist. He certainly comes up with clever plans consistently but he is somewhat mentally unstable. As indicated by the incident on Sterpes II and several times against fighting the Orks, Bishop seems frequently unable to adapt to new tactics – this frustration, in turn, inspires a frighteningly vicious battle-lust that no one has a hope in hell of withstanding.

This in turn gives me all the more reason to hate him and places me in a position where I must obey him not because I want to but out of fear.

So much for the freedom that came with fleeing the Imperium and a career as a pitiful Guardsman.

This, of course, places me in a position of danger: What would happen if I question his orders? Sure myself and Xerxes are his allies but this was an environment of survival and desperation. Thus, who's to say that here there's no such distinction between ally and enemy? And what happens should he find no enemies to satisfy his battle-lust: will he turn on me?

If experience has taught me anything the answer would be yes: Several times previously Bishop has made subtle indications that he'll blow me away without a second thought.

In case such a situation does arise, I just hope he shoots Xerxes before he shoots me.

Such a case of Bishop's mentally instability happened a few days since that fateful encounter when we had the exhibition skirmish against those ten Orks.

That particular day began as any other: We were all making our way through the jungle, all in dispersed formation and all senses on razor-sharp alert.

"The Ork's seem rather quiet today" I mused.

"Keep your trap shut private" Bishop said, his voice a soft snarl "You don't fight guerrilla wars with talking"

"You're one to talk" I snapped back.

"What are you tryna do?" He retorted "You want a whole horde of Orks come down upon us?!"

"You know something?" I replied "That doesn't sound like a bad idea"

Immediately, Bishop ceased walking in a stealthy manner. Instead, he strode over to me. I didn't try to run. Nor did I make any type of protest when he brought his face closer to mine.

"Your subordination is really starting to get on my nerves private" he growled.

"Really?" I sneered "So what type of High Lord of Terra are you going to go whining to? I bet they will listen way out here. In fact I saw all twelve of them walk by just now!"

I know this was an open initiation to have Bishop break my jaw (or worse) with that lethal bionic arm of his but I was confident that he wouldn't so such things.

"I don't care what you want to do" he growled "But I'm keen on surviving"

I mentally laughed: I knew it: With my knowledge of weaponry and my shooting skills he considers me far too valuable to lose.

Unlike Xerxes.

"For whatever good that is" I scoffed.

"I should send you off to the Orks for such insubordination!" Our Fearless Leader retorted

Out of the corner of my mind I thought I caught the small sound of Xerxes sighing.

But who cares for small things like that when you're being abused by a psychotic former Imperial Guard lieutenant?

"So why don't you?" I challenged

"Because I still may have uses for you" he growled.

My brain let out a mental sigh of euphoria. Yes, just what I wanted to hear him say. And I could tell it was something that he didn't want to say at all.

Nothing like a small triumph.

Immediately Bishop pointed to a nearby tree.

"See that tree?!" he barked "Get up it and do a survey of the area!"

"What?"

"Do it private!" he snapped "I want to see if there are some Orks anywhere around!"

"What, you're already that keen to send me to die at their hand?" I sneered.

Bishop didn't reply. Instead he raised his bionic arm and clenched his artificial fingers into a fist.

"Okay fine!" I snapped "I'm going"

And with that, I advanced towards the tree he directed me to and started to climb.

As I climbed I thought I could hear the sound of soft laughter coming from Xerxes

I pretended I couldn't hear it.

But boy, will he pay when I get back down.

Then I heard Bishop's voice from down below:

"And just what are you laughing about?"

Immediately, the sound that resembled Xerxes' laughter ceased.

I grinned. Yes, Bishop is certainly not the type to argue with.

I just hope he didn't try to kill the Rogue Trader before me….

* * *

I climbed through my way up the tree, pushing through the many branches and leaves.

Eventually, I arrived at the jungle canopy – the mass of tree tops that provided a ceiling for the jungle down below. I poked my head through, to be confronted by the sight of clear blue sky.

After tramping so long through the jungle, I forget just how bright the sunshine could be. Immediately, I squinted me eyes at the glare. I shielded my hand and blinked repeatedly, my eyes taking to time to adjust to the sunshine

I could feel my feet resting firmly upon a strong borough and my hands grasping a smaller but quite strong branch. Slowly my eyes returned to normal.

What I saw before me was certainly an impressive sight. It was a mass of green before me, a sea of trees dotted with islands of rock in the form of mountains that rose above it all. All around was quiet tranquillity, not a soul was around. It was as if I was the only living thing on this planet…..

But the most important factor of all was a column of smoke. It was a thick black one that rose from the horizon and towards the heavens.

As I paused, my eyes could pick up the faint (but still unmistakable) sound of distant bolters clattering.

My brow furrowed – this was looking to be very interesting….

* * *

"You sure about that?"

I didn't reply. Instead I faced Our Fearless Leader with a firm expression of utter sincerity.

"What could that column of smoke have come from?" Xerxes wondered.

"It's most likely a gathering of Orks" I answered "Most likely several tribes have run into each other and busy scrapping it out between them"

"You don't suppose it could be the wreck of another crashed escape pod?" the Rogue Trader suggested.

"I wouldn't be so naïve" I snapped back.

"Do the Orks have any settlements on this planet?" Bishop inquired.

"I have seen one or two settlements in my time spent here" I said "Never bother going near them though"

Bishop fixed me with a hard gaze but said nothing. He seemed to be thinking,

What, he was capable of thinking things through?! I thought he relied solely on thuggery.

"We'll go investigate" he said finally "If it's a wreck of some ship then we'll plunder it for whatever we can use. If it's the Orks, then we have ourselves a decent killing field."

"Killing field?" I sneered "That don't sound like words of someone concerned for his survival"

"And if you keep questioning my orders like that then I'll see to it that you're used as bait" Bishop answered.

I blinked and said nothing more.

Despite whatever contempt I may have Bishop I still had to admire his ability to come up the most snappiest of comebacks.

* * *

And so we set off in the general direction of the column of smoke.

It wasn't easy trying to trace it when you're deep within the jungle – occasionally I had to climb one of the trees to make sure we were still heading in the right direction. But as we drew nearer, we found we could rely on the most unlikeliest of guides.

It was the sounds of Orks shouting firing off their boltguns.

However, the idea that the green-skins may have beaten us to our destination didn't really bode well.

"You don't suppose they may have already plundered all the good stuff from the wrecked ship?" Xerxes suggested.

"We don't know for sure whether it's a wrecked ship we're heading to" Bishop snapped.

"Then I sure hope it's not a Ork settlement" I muttered.

"What's the matter?" Bishop sneered "Afraid they might all beat you?"

"One man against God-Emperor knows how many Orks?!' I argued "Sorry but those odds don't seem at all appealing to me"

"Well then" Bishop retorted "With an attitude like that, you have officially signed yourself up to be our bait: Should the Orks attack, we will throw you out to them and when they shoot you many times over, Xerxes and myself will take them all out one by one

"That way you'll think twice about before questioning my orders"

"Are you for real?" I replied "I wouldn't have time to think about such things when I'm getting shot to pieces! I'll be dead within a matter of seconds!"

"Which is all the more reason why you listen to me now" Bishop growled.

And with that, he grasped me by my shoulder.

"Now be a good boy and go find out where our green-skin friends are"

"So you're making me into a scout now?" I spluttered.

"You're not questioning my orders again now are you?" Our Fearless Leader countered, raising his almighty bionic hand.

"Okay fine then" I snapped.

And with that I turned and headed off into the jungle.

But with each step I took, I seethed.

Just whose boneheaded idea was it to have a commander in our ranks?!

Oh yeah, it was mine (well, at least part of it was).

But I certainly didn't appreciate the way he was making decisions. He was playing a dictator – one of the things that put me off from serving within the Imperial Guard.

As such, I simply couldn't believe how short my time of freedom on this planet lasted (such as it was anyway).

It would seem that no how much I try and run from authority the more likely it is come looking for me….

Suddenly I paused – the noise of roaring Orks and firing boltguns had been ringing out all around me for a while but now it seemed dangerously close.

And then I saw bright flashes going off way out in front of me.

Instinct urged me to duck behind a nearby tree.

I had better be careful here.

I peeked around the tree trunk: Way ahead of me I could see some Orks gathering near.

I paused, watching them for a while until it occurred to me.

They're not moving.

These Orks weren't passing through the jungle like the many others I had encountered previously. Instead they seemed to be gathered in spot. They were all gathered in a clearing up all shouting, roaring and firing off their boltguns in a needless manner.

My brow furrowed. This was interesting. Seems like they're all celebrating something big. Something big enough to warrant a closer look.

I got down onto my stomach and proceeded to crawl through the undergrowth. I moved with my hand clutched tight on my pistol and taking care not to draw any obvious attention.

I don't know why I bothered though. With the Orks far too wrapped in doing whatever they're doing, I doubt they had a hope in hell in noticing me.

Eventually I reached a new tree – one that rested on the borderline of the clearing.

I got to my feet and took cover behind the trunk.

Now within a sensible range, I could now see what the Orks are up to. And it indeed seem that they were engaged in a massive celebration.

Or something like it: They all seemed terribly worked up about something – but then again, knowing what the green-skins are like, it wouldn't take a lot to excite them.

Then I noticed something residing on the edge of the clearing. My brow furrowed. Now what was this…?

I peered out from behind the tree trunk…… and what I saw took my breath away.

Above me loomed an enormous construction of ghastly black metal. It stood several feet high with a massive doorway out front. The doorway was occupied with a huge metal door and was complimented with an enormous effigy – it took the shape of an all-too distinctive Ork head, with a rectangle for a face, crudely fashioned beady eyes and a massive jaw with lots of protruding teeth. The effigy rested upon the top of the doorway.

Along the top of the construction stood a number of Orks, acting like sentries. They carried boltguns and looked ready and on the alert. Several of them even took several pot shots at the Orks down below.

But the most striking element of the structure was that it was made using the most primitive designing skills that the green-skins are renowned for. As such, the entire structure looked like it had been thrown together in a completely random fashion: Several sheets of metal were hammered across the construction in the most haphazard manner, portions of the structure look jutterred and out of place and the walls of the structure betrayed signs of using not just balck metal but pretty much anything the green-skins could their hands on. As a result, tree trunks, bones, pieces of weaponry and even mud had all been incorporated into the building of the walls.

I gazed at the structure with eyes widened. In all my time spent on this miserable rock, I hadn't seen an Ork fortress – and seeing one up close certainly made for hideous viewing.

It seems that Bishop was right: This certainly looking to be an opportunity to kill a lot of Orks….

* * *

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	19. Disaster

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Nineteen

"You sure about that?"

Bishop fixed me with an evil glare.

"Absolutely" I said.

Immediately, silence descended amongst the three of us.

"So what are we going to do?" Xerxes asked "With regards to this fortress that is."

"What are we going to?" Bishop snapped "What else are we going to do? We're going to storm in, kill every last stinkin' green-skin in there and blow the whole thing off the face of this planet!"

Xerxes and myself exchanged bewildered looks.

"Narc?" he went on "I hope you have plenty of those shoddy devices you call explosives and that they all work!"

"Are you for real?" I snapped.

"You got a problem with killing Orks?" Our Fearless Leader shot back "Funny I thought this type of thing would've been right up your alley"

"You have a point there but you forgotten one thing" I said "You can't attack a fortress and all its inhabitants at once with only three men! You would have to be either desperate or insane to do something like that!"

"Funny" Bishop growled "I thought we all were. You know, being stranded on this planet, with no hope of rescue or survival"

I blinked. Talk about snappy comeback.

"I am all too aware of the insanity of attacking a fortress with such limited numbers and how the odds aren't exactly stacked in our favour."

"So why you are going ahead with this inane plan then?" I snapped.

"Because when you face a battle like this, where you have absolutely nothing going for you, the first thing you need is a razor sharp plan"

"Famous last words" I muttered.

I don't know whether Bishop heard that or not – but in any case, he continued:

"I know we can make this work – Do you think I've been forcing to develop your fighting skills for fun?!"

"Errr…. Yes?" I retorted.

"Don't push your luck _private_" Our Fearless Leader growled.

"But anyway, I can make this work. I just need full, one hundred percent commitment from the pair of you. Do I myself clear?"

"Absolutely" Xerxes said "You can count on me"

I raised an eyebrow. I somehow doubt that Xerxes would say that because he believed in whatever Bishop has rolled up his sleeve. It was most likely out of fear.

The eye of Our Fearless Leader then turned to me.

"Well, _private_?" he sneered.

"Ah, what the hell" I grinned "I'm in"

* * *

A little while later, we had all gathered within a short distance away from the fortress. Currently, Bishop was off on his own, investigating the battlefield. This involved looking at the fortress, determining the numbers of the opposition and seeing what each of us can do to in this upcoming conflict.

Don't know why he bothered: As far as I could tell there was one possible solution: Blow the cack out of each and every green-skin that you found and hope they don't take a shot at you.

It seemed a suicidal notion but hey, it was a suicidal idea to try and assault this fortress.

For the moment,. Myself and Xerxes kept out of sight of the Orks. Though I didn't see the point in doing so – they were all far too preoccupied with shouting out loud and firing off their boltguns.

My eyes hardened. This was odd: What could have got them so worked up? They were all carrying in a frenzied manner – as if in anticipation for something big.

It made me wonder whether this was really worth it. Was it really worth fighting them when they were carrying on like this? Fighting Orks when they were this hyperactive is not my ideal circumstances of combat. Such a set up of course made the situation somewhat worse than it already is.

And I for one wasn't entirely keen on seeing this plan going down such a route.

I guess that just depends on what Our Fearless Leader has in store for us.

And considering this is the first time that we were able to put our new battle tactics into practice, it would be interesting to see if they actually worked.

Yeah, nothing like relying a huge amount of faith into your leader…

Just then, Bishop appeared. He came hurrying over to where Xerxes and myself hid.

He motioned over us both in come in close.

Once there, he explained what he had in store:

"I had a look around the area and for what I can see, we may have chance to do this"

"We have a chance?" I sneered

Ignoring me, Our Fearless Leader continued.

"We will take out all of those Orks first and then we assault the fortress. To do this we need to take the green-skins using whatever explosives we can muster.

"Narc? That's your department"

"Ah, so we're using my explosives now?" I answered.

Bishop cast me a murderous glance.

"Okay, sure thing' I said.

"As the Orks are being dealt with, we need to take care of the sentries on the fortress. Sniper style. Xerxes?"

"Understood" the Rogue Trader nodded.

My gaze hardened – obedient and in no way prepared to argue.

You could say Bishop held Xerxes' intimidation in the palm of his hand. But I believe the Rogue Trader gave up too early.

"Now, bring out whatever explosives you both have. What we don't use to blow up the Orks, we'll use to penetrate the fortress walls"

I pulled out my hand-made explosives and placed them in front of me.

Bishop looked at them with a curious eye.

"Well I doubt that these could penetrate that wall but they might work in taking out those green-skins

"Forget the wall – just take out every fucking Ork you can see!"

"Now you're talking!" I grinned.

"Xerxes!" Bishop ordered "You set up sniper position and take out every green-skin that gets in your sights! Narc, you come with me to the clearing: I'll head around to the other side into a pincer formation."

Pincer formation - Classic tactic.

"Now listen you two" Our Fearless Leader explained "This is how he'll go about this: Once Xerxes is ready, he'll begin by downing some of the Orks one by one with his sniper tactics.

"You believe you can pull it off? All those sniper skills I taught you should pay off!"

The Rogue Trader nodded.

My brow furrowed. Something seemed amiss here…

"And just what will that achieve pray tell?" I asked.

"That way, he'll create enough confusion in amongst the Orks so their reactive capabilities will be hindered!"

I ground my teeth. This tactic sounded disturbingly familiar……

Oh yeah! That's right! It was one that Bishop wrote off as useless and irrelevant.

And there goes yet another reason to trust this son of an Eldar with the role of leader.

"Once that happens, myself and Narc will charge and blow the green-skin scum into next week!"

"That plan sounds like it might be insane enough to work…." I murmured.

Thankfully Bishop didn't seem to notice.

"Right then!" he said "To battle! Xerxes, wait for my cue!"

And with that we all went into position. Xerxes fell to the jungle floor and propped up his lasgun as Bishop and myself headed to the edge of the clearing.

"Narc?" Our Fearless Leader murmured under his breath "You wait here. I'll head around to the other side of the clearing and attack from there. And don't do a single damn thing until I give the signal

"And keep those explosives handy!"

And with that he turned and waved to Xerxes. Following this, he turned and headed off around the borderline of the clearing.

With my back up against the tree, I could feel my hands grow tense.

This was an insane idea attacking a fortress like this. Sure the enemy was the seemingly ubiquitous Orks and thus no different then the rest of the green-skins I had previously blown away but here the environment was different.

Facing a fortress like this was attacking the Orks on their home turf.

Okay, so maybe this planet was their home turf full stop but previously all battles had been confined to the jungle. There, we relied on ambushes and lightening fast attacks – all products of human cunning. Here, we were attacking a fortress head on.

A tactic of brute force –against a race that practically thrived on such tactics.

My eye turned to Xerxes. Already he was taking careful aim

He looked through his scope, no doubt trying to find a likely target.

And then, without warning, he pulled the trigger.

Quick as a flash, I turned my gaze to the clearing. Immediately one of the green-skins nearest to the edge of the clearing fell over. He came toppling over and immediately fell to jungle floor with a thud.

I held my breath.

So far, the other Orks hadn't paid any attention to their newly fallen comrade. Instead they carried on in their usual manner, so wrapped up in creating as much as possible to notice a fellow green-skin dead at their feet.

So far so good.

My eyes looked towards the other side of the clearing, past the rampaging Orks and into the undergrowth.

There was no sign of Bishop.

Yet.

I ground my teeth. This wasn't looking good. I couldn't see Our Fearless Leader.

Of course, this implied that if he was hiding then he must be hiding in a pretty damn good position.

But the truth of the matter was that he was the lynchpin of this attack. He alone knew the exact moment of when to launch the direct attack and I was relying on him for it.

This, of course, did not really put any sense of ease into my mind. This was a dangerous position, being right under the enemy's nose and I just wanted to blow the Orks quickly as possible.

The more we wait here, the more we'll be exposed.

I quickly shot an eye over at Xerxes. Already he was preparing another shot: He was taking aim through his scope and his finger was at the trigger.

I could my own finger resting the trigger of my own bolt pistol.

Nervous? I'm packing death here!

I cast another eye across the clearing. Still no sign of Bishop.

Where in the name of the God-Emperor could that scum suckin' bastard be?!!?

The Orks still rampaged on, still unaware of the humans waiting in ambush.

I could feel the plans of my hands grow moist.

I heard the click of the lasgun being fired.

I saw a second Ork fall down.

I waited for the rest of the green-skins to react.

Instead, none of them seemed to pay any attention.

I could feel my eyes darting left and right.

The tension was mounting – even to the point of being unbearable.

Two done and still the Orks remained oblivious.

We've been lucky so far yes but I have a feeling it won't last.

I immediately turned around to check on Xerxes.

And then my blood turned cold.

Oh fuck….

You know when things seem to going your way and you then get that feeling that says everything is about to fall to pieces?

It was happening now.

Unbeknownst to Xerxes, he was being stalked by a green-skin: An Ork had somehow managed to get behind and was making his way towards the prostrate Rogue Trader.

Immediately all senses of alarm kick-started within my mind. How the hell that scum-sucker get all the way around?! Most likely he had just come back from being away from the fortress. I somehow doubt that he had powers of stealth adequate enough to sneak around the Rogue Trader's sniper position!

I shot a quick look over my shoulder: Bishop was still nowhere in sight. Dammit, I don't want to go into battle now – not when we have situation here!

I looked at Xerxes - he seemed completely oblivious to the Ork that was approaching him from behind. How the hell could he not?! This was a green-skin we were talking about there! It was not like he was being snuck up on by an Eldar Ranger!!!

I took aim with my bolt pistol. The Ork needed to gotten rid of – or else he'll mess up everything. I couldn't shout a warning – that kinda would blow my cover.

Of course, I doubt that the green-skins will notice anything else over the racket their making but here I'm not taking any chances!

I was about to squeeze the rigger…

When suddenly, whether by chance or through some God-Emperor-given miracle, Xerxes looked up from his scope. He saw me aiming my bolt pistol at him and his eyes widened.

_Behind you!_ I mouthed.

He only had time to shoot a quick gaze of his shoulder – just long enough to see the stinkin' green-skin loom above him, twisted grin across it's face and it's beady red eyes glaring at him.

Quickly, the Rogue Trader rolled over onto his back. In doing so, he swung his lasgun in a huge arc, in an attempt to strike the Ork across the face.

It wasn't an ideal weapon, considering we had to sensibly mange whatever firearms we had at our disposal, but it was enough to create serious damage.

The lasgun did indeed strike the Ork in the face and it did have enough power to send him reeling.

There was only one problem,

Xerxes couldn't mange much momentum in the swing for long.

He quickly followed this blow with a second one - but this one didn't quite achieve the same speed and force as the previous one. It was a sluggish one.

And one that even a slow-witted Ork could see coming.

Seeing the lasgun arrive, the green-skin reached out and grabbed it. He clasped his meaty fingers around the firearm, enclosing it in a tight grip.

I knew it was tight for Xerxes then tried to pull it free. He pulled again and again. But within seconds, he eventually resorted to lashing out at the Ork with his boots.

But all to no avail.

Then things got nasty.

The Ork then proceeded to squeeze his grip tightly around the lasgun.

Xerxes blinked then tired to pull his lasgun again.

My brow furrowed – I could tell what the Ork was trying to do. Could it be possible? Surely not…

In any case, I can't sit around and let such a thing happen. So I brought my bolt pistol and took aim. Right at his head.

Xerxes struggled to pull his weapon free. He then caught sight of me with bolt pistol at the ready.

"What are you waiting for?!' he shouted, his voice frantic "Blow the bastard's brains out!"

I felt my finger squeeze down on the trigger of my bolt pistol.….

But before I could fire off a shell, I was interrupted.

It came in the form of massive crack - One loud enough to resound throughout the jungle.

Then I saw the green-skin: The lasgun he kept so tight within his grip shattered, sending the barrel and pieces of both its manufacture and it's casing in all directions.

Xerxes blinked as pieces of metal that used to be his weapon came showering down from up above him.

Without any further hesitation, I fired my bolt pistol.

The shot slammed its way into the Ork's head, right between the green-skin's eyes, and sent penetrating its way into his skull.

Or at least I hope it was heading in that direction.

The Ork then took a step backwards, no doubt sent that way from the impact of the blast. He took a step back forwards before he came toppling down. The green-skin went face first down to ground.

And down onto Xerxes.

The Rogue Trader yelled as the mass of green came thundering down on him. He didn't have neither the time or space to roll out of the way. As such, all could do was stare up as the Ork came down onto him.

I chuckled to myself.

"What's so funny?!" the Rogue Trader said, his voice emitting, although muffled, from underneath the now dead Ork. "If you've got time to laugh then get this cretin off me!"

"Are you for real?" I said "I'm not touching a corpse! Especially a corpse of a stinking green-skin!"

Suddenly I heard something new – it came in the form of more guttural roars – and one's that sounded dangerously close.

I cast my gaze back beyond the tree.

And what I saw wasn't very pleasing at all.

It seems the shouting and loud noises that took place between myself and the Rogue Trade had somehow managed to attract the attention of the green-skins. And as a result, they were now advancing towards us both.

Both being myself with two bolt pistols and Xerxes without a weapon.

Against a rather large number of green-skins.

Oh fuck….

* * *

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	20. Onslaught

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Twenty

So here I was, back against a tree trunk, twin bolt pistols in hand against a group of Orks all marching towards me.

I snuck a quick peek from out behind the trunk.

I had no idea if they knew I was hiding here – if anything, judging from their expression, they seem to have picked some rather un-orkish noises emitting from on the edge of the clearing. Noises that seem out of place enough to warrant an investigation.

I then gazed towards the other side of the clearing. Bishop didn't seem to be anywhere in sight.

I ground my teeth. I hope he was watching this – after all, he had the ideal position, as well as situation, to snipe at them with his lasgun.

But when nothing that resembled a lasgun bolt came, I began to grow apprehensive.

Come on, you psychopath of a commander! There's a bunch of Orks all with their backs to you! This was an opportunity too good to miss!

Still nothing came.

And the Orks continued their advance unhindered.

I ground my teeth. Well this was turning out to be just terrific.

But personally there seemed to be an upside: After all, didn't I once say I wanted to die in a blaze of glory?!

Well this was turning out to be my lucky day

And, in a display of serendipity, against a whole horde of my constant, hated enemy? Hell yes!

I gripped my twin bolt pistols tight.

Well when opportunity comes a-knocking you don't want to be left behind.

I could hear Xerxes shouting something at me. I ignored him. All I could hear was my destiny calling.

I pondered on how to do this: Do I take them out one by one from behind this trunk? It seemed to offer something of an advantage, seeing as the Orks seemed to be completely unaware of my presence (who's to say that the noises they heard couldn't have come from another Ork?).

It also presents an ideal solution seeing it gave an opportunity to walk away from this conflict alive.

But who said I was ever interested in staying alive?! I'm going to take them all out at once!

I leapt out from behind the tree trunk, both bolt pistols blazing.

All thoughts left me at that point: I cared no for Xerxes, not for Bishop, not for tactics, not for stealth, nor for the fortress and not for my survival. All that mattered was the chance to shoot up as many Orks as possible.

I kept firing. I had no idea if I was actually hitting anything – I just hoped that I was downing as many Orks as possible.

I guess I was succeeding in the fact that I had managed so long without any Ork firearm bringing me down.

Then something happened that I hadn't countered on.

It came in the form of a roar emitting from the other side of the clearing.

Whilst I was used to hearing roars, built up from spending far too much time, on this miserable rock, it only took the space of several nano-seconds to realise that this roar was less bestial than usual. And at a far more higher pitch than the ork vocal chords could manage.

It could only mean one thing.

Bishop.

Keeping one eye trained on the Orks, I directed the other to look beyond the green-skins and the mayhem before me.

And then I saw it. Our Fearless Leader charging out from hiding and thundering his way across the clearing. His mouth was wide open and his lasgun was firing an endless amount of ammunition.

Even as I watched him I could feel myself growing uneasy. Just what the hell was going on here? Here he was, running across open ground, in front of a fortress where the enemy could easily see him and take him out. What's more he was firing his lasgun in, what looked like, the most haphazard fashion – he didn't seem to interested in firing his weapon with the intention of hitting anything. No, he seemed more interested in firing his lasgun for the sake of it. Not only that but he was shouting – Not orders but an aimless loud noise

Hardly the behaviour of a lieutenant who enforced iron-hard discipline and favoured intricate planning.

Still, it did have something of a beneficial result: Some of the lasgun bolts did find their mark and sent some the green-skins down. Furthermore, his unexpected appearance did surprise the Orks enough that it directed their attention away from me.

And thus provided some easy pickings for me.

As Bishop charged across the mass of greenskins before me, the air was suddenly penetrated with the sound of boltgun fire. As he made his charge across the clearing, he was running in the open. As such, it was thus wasn't difficult for the Orks guarding to see him. And to take aim.

Yes, such a move was proving to be a great advancement for the tactics of stealth.

So, seeing as he was so keen to encourage the use of lightening tactics, did he really want to get in combat that quickly?

Strangely enough, Bishop didn't seem to pay any attention whatsoever to the hail of boltgun fire that rained down all around him. Nor did he make any kind of effort to evade it.

Yet through some miracle, he managed to find his way across the clearing unhindered and into the mass of Orks before him.

Seems like the God-Emperor moves in mysterious ways.

Although personally, I would rather have had a massive meteorite came hurtling down from the heavens to flatten the Ork fortress completely.

Anyway, Bishop launched himself into combat. In his one human hand he held his lasgun, waving it around like cudgel and delivering lethal blows to the face of the Orks before him. And his other hand, the one that belonged to his bionic arm, starting throwing punches in all directions with a force strong enough to break bones.

And break bones he did. Upon contact with the mass, he dealt a vicious blow to the nearest Ork, right on the jaw. This triggered off a loud crack and sent the Ork falling down onto his back. The next one found the butt end of the lasgun being slammed into his nose. Bishop then went to grab a third Ork with his bionic arm and lift him a foot of the ground. Then, with pistons pumping, the fingers squeezed tighter around the green-skins neck. A crack was heard and the body went limp. Our Fearless Leader than flung the dead green-skin into the mass of Orks. It hit with such force tat it manage to send several of the green-skins off their feet.

My jaw dropped – I couldn't believe what I was seeing here. The perception I had formed of Bishop was being challenged before me.

And changing with each passing second.

Whether I liked it or not.

Just what was this mean to prove? Was this a side of him that he kept restrained within his mostly composed exterior?! Was this the side that triggered all the physical violence he dealt onto Xerxes fully released without any restrictions?

All of these were hardly comforting notions when I had already deemed Bishop a psychopath.

But as it turns out, it seems that I didn't give him enough credit.

As I stood mesmerised by the insanity before me, I began to notice the amount of dead Orks growing at Bishop's feet and several green-skins showing what seemed to be hesitation towards the prospect of taking on the raving lunatic craving his way through them all.

The direction of the battle was turning.

In our favour.

I blinked. If sending a madman to assist myself and Xerxes is the God-Emperor's idea of an act of mercy then it should be seized without hesitation.

My sharp eyes then flicked towards the massive fortress. Along the battlements, several of the green-skin sentries were moving into action and were taking aim at Bishop.

But not if I could help it.

After all, if you've got a killing machine that cleaves through Orks with the greatest of ease then you'd do anything in your power to keep it alive.

And pray that it doesn't try and kill you.

So far the sentries didn't seem to notice me. Instead they seemed far to engrossed with the whirling death machine that was Our Fearless Leader.

Sounds like a perfect opportunity.

Without flicking an eyelid, I drew out my bolt pistol and let off several rounds of ammo. Within seconds, one of the sentries fell from the battlements leaving his companions in a state of astonishment. Suddenly, one of them caught sight of me by pointing in my direction.

My blood went cold.

Next thing I knew, I was ducking back into cover as the sentries issued a hailstorm of boltgun fire.

Well, so much for taking the discreet approach….

I looked back over the battlefield – none of the green-skins on the ground seemed to be aware of my presence. I guess they have things of their own to worry about.

In the form of an ex-Imperial Guard lieutenant of homicidal intent.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me:

Where the hell was Xerxes in all of this?!

I looked over to where I last caught sight of him: He was still there, gazing mournfully at the pieces of steel that used to be his lasgun.

I ground my teeth. He has no weapon – and at a time when such a thing is needed most.

Dammit, it was times like these that made me wish he had the flamer…..

Bishop being Bishop forbade the use of it so we ended up burying it as one of our secret stash.

A stupid move yes but I had no say in it.

Otherwise I would've hung on to it in order to avoid situations such as this.

There was only one thing for it….

As much as it pained me to do so….

"Xerxes!" I shouted "Stop moping and get fighting!"

"But I have no" he started but I quickly interrupted him.

By sending my other bolt pistol sliding across the ground towards him.

"You do now!" I snapped back.

The Rogue Trader blinked at this.

"Just don't scratch it!!!" I yelled.

It disgusted me to leave one of my treasured pistols in his care –Such a degree of trust would've already been established long ago but my contempt for him got in the way.

But in any case the necessity for survival took over.

Curse that necessity!

"I hope you know how to use one of those!" I snapped.

Xerxes picked up the bolt pistol and took aim. Within the space of a second, he fired. And then, the nearest Ork, one in amongst the group confronting Bishop, was sent off his feet and up into the big Waaaagh in the sky.

"You were saying?" Xerxes yelled back.

Damn, he certainly has a few tricks up his sleeve.

Hardly surprising considering he's a lying, schemer of a Rogue Trader.

"Get those bastards out of the way!" I shouted "Up on the fortress! Take some of the heat off Bishop!"

"I don't think he has the time or space to notice!" he shot back.

"This is no time for any humorous shit!" I yelled "Just get firing!"

So far, the sentries had yet to fire back. Obviously they weren't expecting a round of gunfire bursting out from the edge of the clearing. Most likely they busy wondering were the new gunfire was coming from.

Surely they couldn't think the bolts came from the big human cleaving his way through their comrades.

But then again, they're Orks: Who knows what the hell they think?!

Grasping my bolt pistol in both hands and keeping both eyes fixed firmly on the sentries, I let loose several rounds.

Immediately one of the sentries was downed.

This immediately sparked the attention of the sentries. Immediately they seemed to forget about Bishop and draw their attention towards the new gunner lurking near the borderline of the clearing.

I know this for they all started firing in my direction.

Instinct demanded that I dive out of the way and back into the cover of the jungle.

Whether it was an act of the God-Emperor, a miracle or lightening fast reflexes (my money was on the latter), I managed the safety of the jungle without copping anything greater than a scratch. Landing on my stomach, I paused for breath.

Looking up ahead, I could see Xerxes. He was clutching my bolt pistol in both hands and was firing like there was no tomorrow.

I couldn't see whether he was having any luck but what I could see was him use the bolt pistol without breaking a sweat.

My brow furrowed. It seems he is capable of using a pistol as well as a lasgun. But only people with plenty of experience in firearms can achieve such a feat - and I should know as I saw plenty of them within the underhive of Necromunda.

From what Xerxes told me, he was a coward: A crewman of a Rogue Trader who fled at the first sight of the Imperial Navy, taking one his captain's uniforms with him.

But my time with Xerxes has yielded the knowledge that he is a liar: And what he says may not be entirely trustworthy.

As such, it makes me wonder just what he did before he came here.

Because being able to use both a lasgun and a pistol is hardly the type of thing a coward would do.

Therefore, there may be one or two things he is keeping from me….

I ground my teeth and loaded a new clip into my bolt pistol.

Time to head back into the fray….

I paused and looked up at the sky.

At my feet was several hundred mangled Ork corpses. Before me stood massive crude fortress riddled with bullet holes. And in my hand was a smoking bolt pistol resonating with the warmth of being run to the point of red hot.

The battle was over.

I could feel my bones ache with fatigue – no doubt triggered from all the running around and diving to avoid the bullets form the Orks.

Didn't know I bothered – I had all the cover I ever needed in the form of the jungle.

And it's not like the Orks can hit a barn door at ten paces anyway.

But what did it matter? The battle had been won: All of the sentries atop the fortress had all been dealt with. Any that had dared to raise their head had all been killed. Now the fortress was completely empty.

Of course I didn't know for sure: All I knew is that no more green-skins had stepped in replace their dead comrades across the fortress battlements.

This, coupled with the knowledge that no more Orks were charging out from the fortress gateway (come on, this is a race not known for hiding behind walls of fortresses we're taking about!) suggested that there were no more green-skins to fight.

And leaving us the victors.

I looked up the fortress. I suppose being the victors mean it's there for us to claim.

I mean, it's not as if it's going anywhere else fast…..

I wonder what we're going to do with something this big…

I cast an eye over in Xerxes' direction. He seemed relieved that the battle was over and he was still standing.

So this would be the nature of cowards at work? Walking away from the battlefield just happy to be alive regardless of whatever role they played in the conflict?

Don't why he abided to such a philosophy: After all, it's not like there was much on this planet to be alive for.

He grinned, my bolt pistol in hand.

I hope he intends to give it back…..

If he doesn't, I still have my other pistol – meaning I can still make him hand it back.

Just then a thought occurred to me.

I flicked my gaze back over to Bishop. There he was standing over the bodies of all the Orks he killed.

He clutched his (now looking very battered) lasgun in hand, his bionic arm was caked in Ork flesh and his bare chest boasted streaks of red Ork blood. His eyes were wide, his hair was matted and his breathing was heavy. He looked like some sort of ancient diety of warfare having been though an absolute slaughter.

Although that thought may not be too far from the truth…..

Maybe Our Fearless leader was born in the wrong millennium? No that thought is preposterous.

Still, seeing him like this makes me wonder if he is truly on our side.

After grinding his way through a mass of Orks, it kind of makes me wonder if he has ever managed to attract the attention of the Blood God Khorne

The thought of that made my blood run cold. If that happens he'll be uncontrollable.

Even more so than he is now.

Scary…..

He caught sight of both myself and Xerxes. Immediately he began striding over.

I kept my grip tight on the holster of my pistol. This already wasn't looking good….

It's not like I have ever had a reason to trust Bishop but now it seems there is little keeping me from putting a bullet in him.

Not because I want to but all in the name of ensuring my safety.

Such as it is.

Our Fearless Leader advanced, his eyes locked onto me in a steely gaze.

I didn't flinch once, nor did I make any attempt to break eye contact.

I heard footsteps approach from behind me, thus reassuring me that Xerxes was close.

No doubt watching my back and keeping my bolt pistol armed and ready.

Like it should be.

Bishop kept striding towards me. I couldn't tell whether he could see my hand by my side, holding onto the bolt pistol.

He eventually halted several feet in front of me.

"Just what the hell were you two doing back there?" he inquired, his voice dangerously soft "I had a perfect plan all worked out and you two had to ruin it all"

"We were attacked!" I said quickly "Some green-skin managed to work his way around Xerxes' sniper position and attacked him from behind!"

"It's true!" the Rogue Trader added from behind me.

Bishop continued to glare at us both.

"The damn Ork managed to destroy my lasgun!" Xerxes added, indicating towards my pistol "Hence me using this!"

"I had no choice but to blow that Ork's head off!" I growled.

Our Fearless Leader said nothing, his face showing no sign of easing off any murderous intentions.

"Look on the bright side, we managed to take over the fortress!" The Rogue Trader went on "And we did kill a lot of Orks!"

I had to give Xerxes credit – he certainly had a talent for persuasion.

It makes me wonder how many times he has had to rely on it.

Nevertheless, the mention that we had killed lot's of Orks seemed to trigger some kind of recognition in Bishop. As a result, his features softened.

Somewhat.

"Then that is good news to hear" he said slowly.

Then, without paying any attention to me, he continued on his way, towards the direction of the newly claimed fortress.

I blinked after him.

Now that's a quick change of perception if ever I saw one….

Well, there's nothing like being trapped on a miserable rock with two idiots whom you have to your trust into.

Not that they're the type that you'd want to do so.


	21. Crash

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Twenty One

With the battle won, the day was already drawing towards an end. With no else to go and with the growing necessity to seek shelter, we all headed into the fortress, to have a look.

It was Xerxes' idea: he wanted to have a look, based on the suggestion that there could be something in there that we could use.

I had my doubts about setting foot into enemy territory but Bishop said nothing.

No doubt his mind was slowly returning to normal – but in any case, it was best not to provide any sign of antagonism at this point in time.

For some strange reason, running the risk of Bishop reverting back to his homicidal state didn't appeal to me at all.

In the present time, Xerxes was gazing around the fortress with childlike delight.

"Can you believe this?" he said "We've got this place to ourselves!"

I groaned. You mean to tell me he actually enjoys being in this fortress? And that he thinks it as some sort prize?

Some prize…..

Bishop however said nothing.

"With these strong walls we can set up some sort of headquarters here!" the Rogue Trader went on, his voice radiating with enthusiasm "We can set up a permanent position here!"

"What for?" I sneered.

Xerxes flicked his head around to confront me.

"What do you mean 'What For?'" he said "We don't have to be on the move any more! We have somewhere to rest and stay! We have a something to use a base of operations here!

"And we claimed it from the Orks!"

"Funny" I said "I thought that we methods of survival were all dependent on the Orks not knowing that we are here and keeping on the move."

Xerxes blinked as I continued.

"Staying here will only mean they will know that we are here and they won't have to look very hard to fight something that's not green. If we stay here, we will have no where to run and no where to hide! You can't seriously think that three desperate men can hold off an entire horde of Orks?!"

"I concur" Bishop added "Staying here is not ideal for our continued survival"

Not that we had anything left to live for anyway.

Xerxes' facial expression grew with exasperation.

"You both don't get it, do you?" he said "We have achieved a major victory here! We have claimed a massive building! We can do whatever we want with it! And I say that we set up a base!"

I looked to Our Fearless Leader.

"Shall I clobber him or will you?"

"I'll break his arms and you break his legs" Bishop replied.

We both descended onto the Rogue Trader.

* * *

And so night descended onto the planet. So we made the group decision to spend the night in safety of the fortress. 

I say group decision but really it was decided upon by both Bishop and Xerxes.

It wasn't just that such a notion came into conflict with our policy of continually moving and not staying in the one place for too long. It was also the idea of using the Ork's devices after resisting for so long.

And the device in question being the biggest one we have witnessed to date.

Oh the irony….

Xerxes didn't seem to mind. Sure he seemed previously delighted with the prospect of resting behind the security of enormous, thick walls, but now he had kept quiet about it.

There's nothing like a bit of forceful persuasion.

Such ideas of course certainly have a way of providing peace of mind. As such, he didn't seem to care that we were relying on an Ork fortress?

Bishop also didn't seem to care. My guess that he probably needed somewhere to rest and recover from his battle-lust earlier on. He seemed to abide to the notion that any fortress is a good one and it'll do provided he is able to get his mind back in order.

Hopefully he can get back on track before he can think of trying to kill me.

But to me, I didn't want to stay here at all – never once, since my arrival to this miserable rock did I ever abide to the notion of using the technology of the enemy.

The enemy were Orks and we were the humans. That's the way I saw it and that's the way it will always be.

So why the hell were we staying here, relying on a fortress that the Orks built?!

Such was my discomfort that I volunteered to stay awake and keep watch.

And such was my repulsion of sleeping in the enemy's building that I insisted on staying up the whole watch.

Bishop didn't seem to care – as long as he could rest (which suited my benefit).

Xerxes still seemed keen to sty in the fortress – only now he had a further excuse in that it gave him space and recover from his freshly dealt wounds (courtesy of myself and Bishop).

* * *

And so, as the Rogue Trader and Our Fearless Leader rested, I spent the whole night eyes wide open, keeping vigilant watch for any Orks that may approach. 

I was expecting more green-skins from the tribe who used to occupy this fortress. I was also anticipating an assault from a rival clan.

But what difference would it make? Every scum-suckin' ork are all the same to me.

Oddly enough, no such assault came. I was left patrolling the battlements waiting for an attack but none came.

I guess the Orks really do sleep.

Or they aren't smart enough to see the benefit of attacking a fortress under the cover of darkness.

As such, the night was uneventful.

Eventually, the colour of the skies began to change colour: the darkness was penetrated by clouds of dark blue with deep orange.

Dawn was breaking.

I sighed – the long vigil was at an end.

It was then that I heard the sound of footsteps approach.

I looked up to see Our Fearless Leader stride along the battlements heading towards me. His expression showed signs of a razor-sharp alertness and no trace of sleepiness whatsoever.

I guess you can take the lieutenant out of the Imperial Guard but not the Imperial Guard out of the lieutenant.

"Good morning" I greeted, my voice dripping with sarcasm "Sleep well?"

"Cut the crap Narc" Bishop shot back "Just give me a report of the night's activities"

Well, he seems to have reverted back to normality.

"Uneventful" I said "No Orks came during the night"

Bishop nodded his consent.

"They're lying low" he concluded.

Somehow I doubted that the Orks were capable of doing such an act.

Our Fearless Leader then fixed me with his steely gaze.

"This gives us the perfect opportunity to get moving" he said "The longer we stay here within the confines of this fortress the more danger we place ourselves in. So get ready to leave immediately. I'll go wake up Xerxes"

"You the boss" I said.

"So don't you forget it" Bishop snapped back.

I blinked. Yep, he can still whip out a snappy comeback all right.

Our Fearless Leader then turned away to head back down from the battlements. I paused to take one last scan of the jungle before me.

It was then that I saw it.

"What the hell is that?!" I exclaimed.

I squinted at the horizon before me. What was that?! I swear I just saw something.

There it was!

Something distant but still looked very large and very metallic.

And it seemed to be on fire…..

Bishop immediately flicked his head back around.

"You see something?" he growled.

Look!" I yelled "Over there!"

Our Fearless Leader hurried back over to my side. He then raised his hands to shield his eyes.

"Where?" he demanded.

"That way!" I answered "Towards those mountains"

Bishop's eyes suddenly widened.

"If I didn't know better…." He murmured.

He then turned to face me.

"Narc" he said "Get ready. We're leaving here pronto. It's important we find where that craft is heading and we get to it before the Orks do"

He then turned to go, immediately moving into motion and heading back down to the fortress floor. I blinked before taking off after him.

"It's a craft then?" I answered "You recognise it!"

"That's right – now get moving!" he shot back.

"What type of craft is it?"

"If I didn't know better" he mused "It looked very much like an Imperial prison ship"

* * *

By the time I got my gear together, Xerxes was awake and ready. It didn't take him long to be informed aware of the news and he seemed quite excited with the idea of finding a ruined Imperial prison ship to plunder. 

But under Bishop's guidance, we didn't have time to hang around: We had to get out there, find where the damn thing was landing and loot the whole thing for what it was worth.

And so we abandoned the fortress and heading out, guided by the plummeting craft towards the best direction of where we believed it will land.

So far, luck was on our side: It was still early dawn and there had been no indication as yet of the Orks waking up. This allowed us the benefit of time being on our side.

As we made our way towards our somewhat hazy goal, my brain was riddled with thoughts of a mixed nature.

Was it really an Imperial prison ship as Bishop believed? If so, this could well be the biggest catch that has arrive don this planet. Bigger than the escape pods that had come down before, bigger than the pieces of debris that drifted here and bigger than Bishop's shuttle. Raiding a full-blown Imperial ship offered plenty of opportunities for some decent equipment for our usage – ammunition, weapons and other gizmos. Perhaps even stuff that actually worked!

But at the same time, the idea of raiding a prison ship didn't really bode well: We will be boarding a craft populated with lots of criminals: All of them being, no doubt, far from willing to go to a destiny rotting in an Imperial prison. If there are any prisoners still alive on a crashed prison ship they will most likely come in a variety of forms: bloodthirsty desperadoes, maniacal mass-murders, cunning thieves, charming liars, and the type of nutters that would slit a throat just for a measly cred.

The sort of types a normal person would find unco-operative.

The type that may be a problem in fighting a guerrilla war.

Thus, if we get spotted by such a prick in this raid we will have to take immediate action and kill them on sight.

Tough but hey, in this game of survival it's always them or us.

But the notion didn't really bde well in my mind. After all, had fate not taken a strange turn, it could've well been me on that prison ship. And I can say that I could understand the desperation of wanting to get out from a prison ship and taking whatever measures, now matter how desperate, to retain one's freedom.

As we made our way through the jungle, all of us kept on eye towards the jungle canopy, watching the falling craft and following the general direction to the possible location to which it may land.

Suddenly, the falling craft's descent picked up: It screamed across the planet's surface before disappearing from view.

"What the?!" Xerxes exclaimed "Were did it go?"

"Hold!" Bishop commanded.

All three of us ceased our pursuit.

Seconds later, a huge rumble came careering through the jungle. It came with a huge explosion, which let up the canopy with bright flash of light. Seconds later, a series of earth tremors came thundering through. As I struggled to keep my balance, I feel small particles of dust gather in my mouth.

I looked up at Bishop who smiled.

"Seems like it's landed" he said "Let's go"

* * *

We had little trouble finding the crashed craft. 

I mean, anyone would surely notice a massive monolith of steel situated several feet in the ground and in the middle of a freshly made clearing.

There it was, lying in amongst a sea of uprooted earth and scorched jungle vegetation. Behind it lay an enormous skid-mark, made up of earth and rock, describing the crash landing that the ship had just been through. The shop had come down with so much force that it smashed it's way into any trees that got in it's path and left a trail running for miles.

A trail that anyone would have little difficulty finding.

Much to Bishop's annoyance.

"Would you look that" he muttered, gazing up at the devastation that was the crash route.

He turned to us.

"If this craft hit the planet with that much force than it's certain that the Orks may have felt it and are already on their way.

"Get moving! We have to plunder this ship for anything useful and be out of here as quickly as possible!"

Xerxes and myself nodded our consent and the three of us headed to the ship.

"Narc!" Bishop commanded "Go find the ship's computer and try to find the ship's records! I want to know what happened to the crew! Xerxes! Try and find any survivors!"

And with that we went out separate ways into the ship.

I charged towards the general direction of the cockpit. If the ship's record database had somehow managed to survive the crash then it will most likely be found there….

I ran up to the ship's hull and slammed my boot into it.

Such was the force of the blow that the already weakened metal twisted underneath it.

* * *

I made my way through the ship. All around were the sights of debris, ruined machinery and wrecked ship parts.

No doubt the ship had struck the planet with so much force that the impact had ruined everything on board leaving nothing left.

Somehow I doubted that the ship's computer would still be functional…..

Anyway, it seemed that Bishop's observation was correct: This craft was an Imperial ship. As I journeyed through the wrecked craft, I could see the dead bodies of numerous security personnel and many stasis pods containing the bodies of the prisoners that were being transported to the prison.

I was aware of these stasis pods – there were designed to keep troublesome prisoners quiet as the ship made its journey to and from the penitentiary. I guess the Imperium certainly had their own degree of measures to stop any potential rebellions.

Can't say I blame them though – what prisoner, in their right mind, wouldn't want to spend the rest of their life in the Penal Legion?

Anyway, it seemed that Bishop's observation was correct – to which I then paused. How did he know that? Considering the distance from the original sighting and the fortress, it was doubtful that he could've identified a prison shop so easily.

Either there's something he's not telling us or he must be impeccable in his understanding of Imperial ships.

Of course that is to be expected being an Officer in the Imperial Guard, it is expected to know the difference between the various Imperial ships but I doubt that Bishop is telling us everything…..

I shrugged – Even if he was, there was no way he'll be telling me.

And absolutely no way I can force the truth out of him….

So I continued on my way. As I progressed there still didn't seem to be much about as most of the gear in the ship was either ruined or damaged beyond recognition. In fact that the only thing that was still worth savaging were the numerous discarded weapons and ammunition that lay around, no doubt once used by the security guards.

I pocketed the ammo clips as I went. I can still give them a good home…..

As I made my way through the ship, I kept close watch on the control panel of each and every stasis. All of them showed an unfriendly red light, an indication that the occupant was dead.

Can't say I'm surprised. I figured most of them would've died when the ship crashed.

Hold on.

Over there. That control panel – It's housing a blinking green light.

That means that someone must be alive!

What, one person managed to survive the crash where so many others had perished?

Well buddy, looks like today is your lucky day.

I moved towards the capsule, my eyes on the controls and trying to find the release.

Yeah, buddy, not only have you escaped death but you've escaped a destiny of rotting in the Penal Legion in favour of fighting a futile guerrilla war against a whole load of Orks!

And things can only get better from here.

After pressing several buttons on the control panel beside the capsule, I then looked up across the face of the capsule. There, I saw something that looked like a release device. I leant in towards the stasis pod and pressed the release.

Success! A click resounded throughout the ship and the capsule slowly opened.

Immediately a huge burst of steam came rushing through, I immediately shielding my eyes.

Eventually, I felt the pressure within the steam subside. As it continued to billow around, my peered into the capsule trying to see what lay inside.

But what I saw in amongst the steam was completely unexpected.

I saw a face, fully rounded and with a lighter skin tone than my own. The face also boasted a small nose, full-red lips and was framed by a crop of red hair cut short to the lower face.

I blinked, unsure of what to do next.

But it didn't take long before I came to the realisation that….

Then, as the steam slowly cleared, the closed eyes fluttered open. This revealed a pair of brilliant blue eyes confronting me. Although drowsy, the eyes seemed surprised to see me.

And then, somewhat unwilling words, began tumbling out of my mouth.

"By the Emperor!" I gasped. A woman!

I had been around one for so long that I had nearly forgotten what one looked like.

Such as my shock there and then that I didn't see the woman's facial expression grow with alarm.

But I did see the fist she rammed into my face.


	22. Woman

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous

**Author**: Spike

**Chapter:** Twenty Two

Such was the force of the blow that I went flying across the interior of the wrecked prison ship. I hit the opposing wall with a tremendous thud.

I groaned in agony as the pain of the impact cruised its way through me.

Yes, it has certainly been a long time since I was last in the company of a woman.

But in a way, some things never change.

Groaning, I looked up at the woman.

The steam was slowly dissipating, revealing the woman to be of a slender figure and in possession of some fine legs. She was dressed in standard prison fatigues.

Well they _looked_ like standard prison fatigues – I can't say I know everything about women prisons.

She then fixed me with a curious gaze.

I braced myself, waiting for a barrage of cursing and more physical strikes (they did this type of thing ….if my experience with women is anything to go by).

Strangely enough no such thing came. Instead the woman didn't seem to pay any attention to me whatsoever. Her eyes just traversed all across the interior of the ship, as if trying to grasp an understanding of her situation.

And her facial expression was even more bizarre. Instead of being fired up and ready to punch someone's head in (hey, if I awoke from sleep only to be confronted with the sight of someone staring into my face I would break every bone in their body), she seemed rather sullen and, if anything, disinterested with her current situations.

I blinked as she caught sight of me.

"Funny" the woman said "You don't look anything like a security guard.

"And you certainly don't look like any of the other prisoners on this ship"

I fixed her with a curious gaze. Considering how many planets of hostile environments the universe houses (and believe you me there are a LOT of them), I'm surprised that she hasn't already shown signs of being ready for any sort of conflict.

It's usually expected when one lands on unfamiliar territory.

I cleared my throat.

"What I'm about to tell you" I said, in slow, measured tones "May be difficult to understand or accept"

The woman didn't seem to bat an eyelid. Regardless, I continued:

"Your ship has crash landed on a planet far beyond the borderlines of Imperial space. You are the only survivor"

The woman blinked and then she nodded.

I could feel my blood running cold. This woman seems to be taking this information all too well. She also seems unbothered by arming herself when there exists the alarmingly strong possibility she may have landed in a dangerous area. And to top it off she seems completely unbothered by being way out of reach of the protective bosom of the Imperium.

"So then" she said "What is this planet then?"

My brow furrowed. I was expecting this question – but not with open arms.

Here comes the hurricane…

"I do not know what this planet is called" I said slowly "Like I said, all I know is that we are well out of the Imperial border and we have to fight to survive"

Suddenly, for the first time since we met, the woman showed some sign of interest in what I was interest. She then fixed me with a curious gaze.

And I could've sworn I saw something in her eye sparkle.

"Fight to survive?" she echoed "_Do_ go on"

I blinked, taken aback.

"Well, we are the only human inhabitants on this planet and we are fighting a guerrilla war to survive against an enemy who doesn't know we are here"

"Oh I like those odds" She replied.

I could feel myself growing increasingly uneasy. This woman was certainly proving to be full of surprises.

Not all of them welcome….

"Who are we fighting?"

"Orks"

And then, for the first time, she smiled.

But it wasn't the most comforting smile I had ever seen. It was one of pure sadistic pleasure – one that would probably be more at home on the face of a Dark Eldar.

"Now you're talking" she purred.

She immediately stepped out of the capsule and cracked her knuckles.

"Right then!" she said "We're going to fight some Orks! Well, lets get ready to move immediately! No point in keeping the green-skinned bastards waiting!"

And with that she darted off up into the depths the ship, back where I came.

This left me blinking in astonishment.

Exactly that the hell just happened here?!?

* * *

My fingers hammered on the keypad. Before me, the ruined computer screen crackled with life and, somehow, managed to produce a range of data before me.

I was amazed that the screen was able to display such information, considering there was an enormous crack right across it and a chunk of it was missing.

No doubt lost in the crash.

I was standing in what used to be the cockpit of the shuttle. As the craft itself was half buried in the planet's surface, the nose had grinded up into a mess of steel, taking the pilot's seta, along with the pilot himself, with it. Thus there wasn't enough room to move around in. However, there was enough space for me to access the ship's computer.

Which, miraculously, somehow managed to escape the destruction of the shuttle cockpit.

I didn't bother following the woman back through the ship – if anything, I'm kind of glad that she decided to disappear. It meant I could retrieve the necessary ship data by myself without any interference.

Hopefully, I'll be done here by the time she decides to come back……

Anyway, I gazed on the screen before me, finding my way into the ship's log in an attempt to find out what had caused the prison ship to crash.

But I found was very little.

Perhaps I was being optimistic: It is decreed by the Imperium that every ship contain a log describing everything that happened on each and every mission and journey. Thus it seems unlikely that anything would ever interesting would happen on a prison ship, with a significant level of security and each and every prisoner is kept in stasis.

Not even the potential for a revolt.

I made my way towards the end of the log, to the last record.

Unsurprisingly, it was incomplete. It seemed that the author of the record was entering it when he was suddenly interrupted – by an attacker no doubt.

As I read the entry, it seemed that my fears were confirmed: the ship was attacked.

But by who?

The entry itself was rather vague but from I could gather it seemed that the prison ship was attacked by some pirates – pirates who are described as having arrived in sleek ships and who moved at an incredible pace.

My brow furrowed. Eldar.

In my time spent with the Imperial Guard, I had fought with the Eldar before. I knew they were the type who attacked quickly and without mercy – something based around the concept that the galaxy used to be theirs and they have a right to reclaim it.

Riiiiiiiiiight…..

Anyway, this revelation raised some questions: Just what did the Eldar hope to achieve by attacking a prison ship? If they were pirates, as the record stated, it must mean they were looking for some kind of plunder. But what kind of plunder would a prison ship yield?

Most likely they were looking for some sport. Or they don't appreciate the idea of humans entering their own corner of the galaxy.

This thought was indeed quite alarming. It made me stop and think: Just what might be happening off planet?

What's going on in the orbit surrounding this world…..?

Eventually, I shrugged. Whatever is going on, it's not like I have an excuse to be worried about it.

I looked around the rest of the cockpit (such as it was), trying to find something that in any way resembled something usable.

It was then my eye fell on some kind of cabinet, sitting on the other side of the cockpit

My eye grew with curiosity.

What was even more remarkable was that this cabinet was untouched by the damage caused by the crash landing.

Which was even more to attract my interest.

I moved towards the cabinet and pulled open a drawer.

Inside was a large number of security tags.

I grinned evilly. I think I just hit the jackpot here…..

I reached into my coat and pulled out a small bag.

Then, moving quickly, I began picking my way through each of the tags, picking out the one's that were ruined and the one's that were still intact.

If my assumption is correct, then these must be the prison identity tags, containing a whole range of information on each and every one of the prisoners.

A gold mine of data yes, a great reason to make a beginning in the field of blackmail yes, but the tags themselves are only good to me if they are still readable. Thus, I picked out the one's that seemed undamaged – a pure guarantee that the data on them would still be accessible.

Within time, I managed to fill the bag – the amount of damaged tags countered towards the majority of them. No doubt they were ruined when the ship crashed.

Which the one's have the lucky survivors.

Of course, I could say I felt something of an affinity with my tags but what type of numbskull would buy nonsense like that?

Okay, the members of the Cult Mechanicus maybe…

With my new found acquisition, I left the cockpit, and headed back to where I met the woman.

On the way, I caught sight of a dead guard.

My eyes hardened. If my hunch is correct….

I reached down and started examining the items attached to his belt.

It didn't take me long to find exactly what I was after.

It was a small device the size of a human hand. It was coloured black and contained a number of small buttons as well as a computer screen. At the bottom of this device was a small slot of inserting tags.

Yes, I knew what this was: it was a standard issue device issued to all Imperial prison guards. It was used to provide on the spot information on all prisoners through reading the prisoner tags.

And just the thing that I needed….

As I handed the device into one of the inner pockets of my great-coat, my ears caught the sound of feet approaching.

I looked up….

And then my eyes widened.

The woman had returned. Only this time she carried with her a whole plethora of weapons: One hand she carried a chainsword, and attached to her belts was a machete and an assortment of knives. And slung across her shoulder was a belt of grenades. It seems she has been raiding the ship's armoury….

…But if that was the case then the least she could've done was find some decent firearms…..

But that wasn't what took me by surprise: It was her appearance: She had ditched the standard prison overalls in favour of a pair tight-fighting pair of trousers and a dirty crop-top that used to be white.

"Hello again!" she grinned "I'm all set to kill some of those green-skins you told em about!!!"

I blinked in surprise. Yes, it had certainly been along time since I had last laid eyes on a woman….

I then noticed she was looking at me funny.

"Something the matter?"

"Oh nothing" I managed to blurt out.

She looked at me with a look completely lacking of conviction. Her mouth had collapsed into a frown and her eyes grew evil.

"Were you looking me funny?" she inquired, her voice dangerously soft.

I immediately recognised this type voice – it was one that was usually used by people whom were seconds away from ripping one's throat out.

Some quick thinking was required here….

"Save it for the Orks!" I said urgently.

Immediately, the woman's features softened. Her grin returned.

"Okay!" her voice suddenly perky.

My brow furrowed. What was with this woman? Her moods keep changing every minute.

I turned to go.

"Come on" I said "Lets go find some Orks"

"Lead on!"

Was it wise to take this woman along with me? We have only just met and already it is plain as day that her thought patterns are unstable: Her moods are indeed erratic – and such a notion promises a lot of unease. She seems keen for combat yes but that's not to say that she will be reliable when things are at their roughest.

Still, when you've been marooned on an Ork world for so long, any human is good company.

Besides, what difference would another mad…person make in this company of guerrilla fighters?

"By the way" I added "We are not the only humans on this planet – there are two others here with me"

"Are they all keen to kill the Orks?"

"As far as I know yes"

"Then in that case I like them already"

"Oh and my name's Narc"

"Jessie" the woman grinned.

* * *

I led the woman named Jessie out of the ruined prison ship and into the open.

She blinked at the sunshine.

"A jungle world" she murmured.

"Yes" I said "Just perfect for guerrilla combat"

"Oh I'm liking this more and more…" she grinned.

_And the more I hang around you the more disturbed I get_ I thought

We both made our down a massive shaft of steel that protrude from the ship and was situated directly below the entrance hole. The shaft resembled one of the ship's landing gears: No doubt it was ejected from the ship's hull in the crash. Or most likely it was released by the pilot in an attempt to create a more stable landing.

And what a lot it ended up doing.

Just then I caught sight of Bishop and Xerxes. They were standing several metres away from the crashed ship. They stood with arms folded, a pair of stasis pods resting on the ground behind them.

I blinked. More stasis pods? What, they manage to find more survivors?

Then a thought occurred to me: I found a woman… just how am I going to explain this one?

But then I shrugged. If I didn't know better, I could say that both Xerxes and Bishop are in the same boat as me in that we haven't seen a woman in Emperor-knows how long.

"What are you looking at?" Jessie then asked "Any Orks already?"

I flicked a glance at the woman. Already her eyes were sparkling and a grin was written across her face.

A grin that was already growing distinctive.

And all too demented.

"No" I said "Those are the allies I told you about"

Upon hearing this, Jessie's grin vanished.

I blinked in surprise – I wasn't expecting this.

And not only her mouth changed, but her entire facial expression grew sullen: Her eyes lost their spark, her cheeks paled, and any joy that used to occupy her face had now disappeared in a puff of smoke.

My eyes widened in shock - It wasn't so much that her expression changed so dramatically but the fact that it did so quickly.

"Damn" she muttered, in voice completely devoid of enthusiasm "And I was so looking forward to killing something"

And with that she continued on her way – she made her way down the disused landing gear and to the earth below, leaving me wondering the hell just happened.

Who was this person? Who is the person that shows an undivided passion to kill something only to collapse into disappointment when the opportunity doesn't show itself?

If anything, such behaviour would be best suited to a disciple of Khorne….

And in that case, she and Bishop may get along famously……

Anyway, this woman called herself Jessie but I have no reason to trust her: Who in their right mind would rely on someone who had just come from a prison ship? Such an environment is populated by thieves, murderers and thugs.

And liars.

Her enthusiasm for combat suggests that she seems to have a fair understanding of combat, weapons and, by being awfully keen to kill some Orks, some knowledge of the various hostile forces in this blasted universe.

Of course, this sets up a lot of reason to be suspicious – who's to say that I'm not being told everything?

But what I find particularly unsettling is that she seems horribly unstable with her emotions: one moment she seems frighteningly keen to kill the Orks, the next minute, all her enthusiasm disappears in the blink of an eye leaving something of an emotionless husk.

This planet certainly has a strange way of attracting the greatest of misfits.

Man, life on this miserable rock is certainly going to get a lot more fun now…

* * *

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	23. Preacher

Dark Shard - Angelus Erroneous 23 

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous  
**Author**: Spike  
**Chapter:** Twenty Three

"So who are you?" Bishop growled.

"Jessie" came the reply.

Bishop fixed our latest recruit to this group of scruffy band with a steely gaze - the type a carnivore would towards a slab of flesh meat.

I too kept a hardened eye on Jessie, waiting for the moment when she will let slip some information about herself. A moment that shouldn't be too far away...

Xerxes also had his eye on Jessie - but it didn't take a Tech Priest of Mars to deduce that his mind had already been taken over by the urges of his hormones.

Yes, it has certainly been awhile since he was last with a woman.

Not that the idea that he ever will get laid seemed possible.

Still, I wouldn't dare touch someone who possessed an undivided enthusiasm for killing Orks.

"And where are you from?" Our Fearless Leader snapped.

"Damenameneus XII"

Bishop looked away from our latest recruit and to Xerxes and myself.

"I haven't heard of a planet going by that name" he said "What about you two?"

"Can't say I have" I replied

"I think I do know" Xerxes mused "I have reason to believe that it is an industrial planet, situated near the holy world of Chiros"

I mentally cursed. What nonsense is he coming up with now? It was plainly obvious that he is still coming up with the most preposterous of lies - showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

He certainly didn't choose his world's well - Chiros is one of the holiest locations in the Imperium, being the birthplace of Confessor Dolan Chirosius. It seemed unlikely that any soldier of the Imperium would not have heard of the planet of his birth let alone the man himself.

Thus, the odds of someone not being aware of a planet located Chiros were very slim indeed.

Bishop fixed Xerxes with a hardened gaze but then he just shrugged.

"If you say so"

I nearly fell over backwards. Are you for real?! Bishop hadn't heard of Chiros?! I thought the odds of a soldier not knowing of Confessor Dolan would be slim but a Commanding Officer? You got to be kidding me!!!

This unexpected scrap of information immediately triggered a whole mass of questions in my brain, all of them dealing with Bishop's integrity as a lieutenant.

Just how efficient was his training exactly?!

But then again, I guess the role of an Imperial CO is less about history and more about herding so many soldiers to their deaths┘.

But not only was what little faith I had in Bishop was questioned - also of concern was how much faith he had in Xerxes...

As I pondered, Bishop continued with interrogating the woman named Jessie.

"So, what were you doing on board the prison ship?"

I raised an eyebrow. This could prove to be useful...

"I was being escorted to the Penal Legion"

"For what crime?"

"Oh some Imperial official got killed and I got the blame" she answered.

I raised an eyebrow. That's her story but she says it with little in the way of interest. Thus, providing this account with so little conviction leaves me questioning the authenticity of her words.

Bishop however did not share similar suspicions:

"And did you kill the official?"

"Of course not" Jessie answered "He was killed in public, on broad daylight. I simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and I got conned into being a scapegoat!"

My brow furrowed with interest. This was beginning to sound familiar┘..

"I see" Bishop said.

"Well then" he said "Seems you're on the run from the law. Just like the rest of us"

I raised an eyebrow. Those words don't sound like the type thing that Bishop would say. In fact I can recall saying the same thing to him when he arrived here┘.

"So, let's get one thing settled here" he went on "You must come with us. You have to move and fight with all of us. Like the rest of us, you have to rely on your wits to survive. The fact that the Orks don't know we are here is our greatest strength and we have to keep it that way. We must fight a guerrilla war just to survive."

I felt like going up to him and knocking him senseless. I recognised what he'd just said: they were the same words I said to him when we met. Just who the hell did he think he was, taking my words and making them appear like his own?!

Come on, it's not like a person of his calibre will say something like that...

"So" Our Fearless Leader said "Do you understand?"

"Yes" Jessie replied.

"Good" Bishop said "Because let's get one thing settled: I am in charge here"

I could feel my eyes widen. Even Xerxes' expression grew with exasperation.

"That's right" he went on "I have the skills, the leadership and the guidance necessary to see all four of us through this mission of survival. Follow my commands to the letter and you will survive. Not doing so will only result in your death. My word is absolute and it will ensure your continued existence."

I couldn't believe this. Does he really think we will follow with him with an attitude like that?!

Of course, when one considers the importance of safety in numbers we really don't have much of a choice

Still at least he's saying words that are his own.

The only question is how Jessie will react to this...

"Will you lead me to plenty of Orks to slay?" Jessie inquired.

"Yes"

"Then that's fine by me!"

My sense of disbelief suddenly became big enough to pilot a Thunderhawk gunship through. She was buying this exemplary display of bullying so easily? Just for satisfying a seemingly twisted demand of needing enemies to fight?

It is all too clear that Jessie is keen on fighting and fighting alone - thus it makes me wonder what she will bring to this company of the damned. The way I see it, such enthusiasm will ultimately come into conflict with our tried and true method of guerrilla warfare.

This in turn sets up groundwork for things to go horribly wrong in combat and the potential for making Jessie something of a liability.

But Bishop seems all too aware of what she wants and is more than willing to provide it - because by doing so he will have her complete cooperation.

And such establishment was achieved far too quickly.

I looked at Xerxes - and if his expression was anything to go by he too seemed shocked but only temporarily. It didn't take long before he adopted a sense of consent - as if he had no argument with the idea of 'the more, the merrier'.

I had to hand to him - He just gives up so easily.

As such, this new alliance bears watching.

Bishop then turned his attention to the two stasis pods on the ground in front of us.

"Well then" he said, rubbing his hand together "Let's take a look at what we have here, shall we?"

"What's this?" I asked.

"Xerxes found two stasis pods on board that ship - they were the only ones on board that contained life-forms still alive

"But" he added, eyeing Jessie "It would seem that these weren't the only survivors from the crash."

"So what are we going to do with these people?"

"We're going to release them, and see if they are of any use"

"What, to our cause?"

"Exactly" Bishop growled.

"How can you be so sure they will be able to help us?" I countered "And what IF they aren't so willing as you'd believe?"

"Simple" Bishop shot back "I'll make them"

I fell silent. No use in trying to challenge a statement like that...

Bishop knelt down before one of the pods and began pressing a few buttons.

He then cast his gaze back over his shoulder..

"Xerxes!" he commanded "Narc! Ready your weapons and be prepared to shoot if there's any trouble"

I complied by readying my bolt pistols. Xerxes did the same with his lasgun.

Within seconds, the seal was broken. The front lifted up, bringing a huge blast of steam with it.

Our Fearless Leader shielded his eyes from the blast. I however kept both fingers ready on the pistol triggers.

Eventually the steam dissipated thus allowing Bishop to return his gaze into the pod.

Suddenly a shout echoed across the clearing, coming from a voice that was deep, loud and unfamiliar.

"By the Emperor! I am still alive!"

And what happened next happened very quickly.

Bishop was shoved aside √ he was sent flying backwards from the pod, and onto his back. And then from the pod emerged a large form.

First impressions suggested that this newcomer was a human √ thankfully. And it was a male. This newcomer was a tall man of a thin structure and a bald head. He also had the most unfriendly of faces boasting a real beak of a nose and a pair of eyes that burned with fire. He was dressed in, what looked like, the robes of an Imperial priest.

The man looked at us all with an expression that radiated with untamed passion.

"Who's in charge here?!" he snapped "Where is the nearest settlement? I must contact my superiors in the Adeptus Ministorum immediately so I can continue my work on His name!"

I blinked in utter astonishment. Is this guy for real?!

He may find it contacting the Ecclesiarchy a bit difficult out here...

Xerxes and myself both kept our guns trained on this newcomer he both exchanged glances equally unsure on what to do.

Jessie watched him with a curious eye - as if she was deciding as to whether this man was a threat or not.

I guess that if she was inclined to strike done something without an hesitation it would be anything that wasn't human...

The man looked at us all, duly noting him being confronted at gunpoint.

"Put up your weapons!" he shouted "I am no threat! I am a man of the cloth, here to smite the heathens in His name!

"If you dare challenge me, you are no better than the many heretics infesting His universe!!!"

My brow furrowed. You've got to be kidding me...

Then, without waiting for a response, man's gaze then turned down onto Bishop.

"You!" he demanded "Where in the God-Emperor's universe am I?"

Bishop didn't reply immediately. Instead small words slipped out from his mouth:

"Will you stop carrying on like that, asshole?!"

It was a brief sentence Our Fearless Leader muttered under his breath yet it somehow managed to attract the priest's attention.

And did it ever.

Without batting an eyelid, the priest reached forward and grabbed Bishop by his pony tail. Then, with a strength that could only have come from a man on a mission, the priest glared at the man with an evil eye.

"Profanity!" he boomed "You dare use such language in front a priest?! A holy man of Our God-Emperor?!"

Bishop blinked in astonishment. The rest of us promptly did the same.

I blinked at this scene as it unfolded before me. It was beginning to make me wonder if it would be worth killing this priest or not.

Still I had to give him credit: he has already been on this planet ten seconds and already he is doing what no one else had ever thought of doing: Standing up to Bishop.

Either he must have guts or he must be completely insane! 

Or most likely he hasn't been here long enough to know any better...

Then a thought occurred to me: Do I really want to kill a priest let alone this one? Doing so may strike me down from the God-Emperor's light...

But then again since when have I been bothered with such concerns? That already happened a long time ago.

Anyway, the use of swearing must have really ticked off the priest for he began shouting at Our Fearless Leader.

"You dear sir are a heretic!" the priest thundered "A scum of the universe, a corruption of what was once righteous, all fallen from the Emperor's Light!"

Our Fearless Leader's gaze then hardened and his eyes grew furious.

"And just who the hell are you to challenge me?"

"Just a humble Priest doing His bidding" came the reply "Try not to resist"

"No one" Bishop growled softly "Has ever done that to me! No one!"

Such words were developed dripping with venom - the type of tone that could only come from a man of dangerous and homicidal intent. Even an idiot would hear these and be quick to pick a sense of impending doom.

But not this priest. In reply, he slammed booted foot onto Our Fearless Leader's face. Bishop grimaced with both pain and the shock of impact. Amazingly however, the priest's boot managed a holding - one that Bishop couldn't shake off.

"So what?" the priest snapped "You're a heretic! All heretics look the same to me!"

"What are you idiots waiting for?!" Bishop shouted at the rest of us "Don't just stand there! Blow this moron's brains out!"

I looked at Jessie. She blinked at the priest, and then at Bishop.

And then she smiled in sadistic pleasure.

My gaze then headed towards at Xerxes. He stared down the barrel of his lasgun, his finger twitching on the trigger.

But then he topped. He calmly lowered his lasgun and began watching the scene unfold before him, a smug expression written across his face.

I blinked but then I too saw something pleasurable about the drama before me: Lieutenant Pike Bishop, Our Fearless Leader, Our self-proclaimed master tactician, Our beloved 'follow me or I'll blow your brains out' commander

Bishop snarled something indistinguishable and thrust his well-used bionic arm into the direction of the priest's jaw.

But what happened next I never saw coming.

The priest reached out and grasped the bionic arm with his free hand.

He slammed his palm into the path of the incoming fist to bring it's path to a dead halt.

With his bare hands.

My jaw dropped when I saw this. Just what was this lunatic thinking?! Daring to challenge such a force with his own flesh?! Is he out of his mind?

Looking around, Xerxes also looked stunned - and even Jessie began to show interest.

"His will is inside me!" the priest snapped, words tumbling from his mouth whilst exhibiting no signs of breaking a sweat "So nothing can or will get in my way!"

All of this was said with words ignited with passionate fury issued with a voice thunderous in commanding presence not once pausing for breath.

"Who the hell are you to say something like that to me?" Bishop growled - even when being confronted with a foe who finally proved to be his match, he was defiant as ever.

My brow furrowed. Already my danger signs were in overdrive: telling me that this priest was trouble and if I don't take action soon, he could prove to be a problem.

Of course I wouldn't care if he killed Bishop right there and then but I'm more concerned for my own skin.

I cast a nervous glance at Bishop. Nervous? Well, knowing Our Fearless Leader, there was no way in hell he was going to take anyone saying such things to him lying down. And besides, I knew enough of him to say that he won't tolerate anyone who dares stand up to him.

Needless to say, I'm expecting a reaction of apocalyptic proportions.

Strangely none came.

"I am a messenger of His word!" the priest bellowed "I am the Sheppard who guards his flock from the wolves! And you better believe it!"

So I took action: Without waiting for Xerxes or Jessie to do anything, my feet began moving.

"And it is my duty to bring you back to that light - through the purifying flames of the holy fire which I will be glad to administer! You will feel the flames burn your flesh free of signs and baptise you as a new man and loyal disciple of the His word!"

Despite his uncomfortable position, Bishop still managed a glare at the priest.

"Go to hell" he sneered.

"Never!" the priest roared back "That's the very place I am saving you from! Submit to the Emperor's..."

He never got to finish his sentence. For I intervened in form of clubbing him in the back of the head with the butt of one my bolt pistols.

The force of the blow was enough to knock the priest out and sending him sinking to the ground before me. As such, his grip on Our Fearless Leader lessened and allowed to slip free.

I blinked, suddenly confronted with three pairs of eyes all focused on me. Then I shrugged.

"Had to shut him up" I said "He was getting on my nerves"

"Could of come at a better time" Our Fearless Leader growled.

"What's the matter?" I said, my voice playfully hurt "Not a single word of thanks?"

Bishop didn't reply. Instead he shot me a glance of pure murderous intent. The type that was enough to shut me up completely.

"So what do we do with him?" Xerxes asked, nodding towards the prostrate form of the priest.

"We're taking him with us" Bishop replied firmly.

A gasp of disbelief went up between Xerxes and myself.

"Are you crazy?" I spluttered "After he nearly tried to kill you?"

"Really?" Our Fearless Leader shot back "In that sense I figured you'd understand"

I fell silent, held in check by a razor-sharp comeback.

"I say we're taking him with us" Bishop went on "Being the only humans on this planet we must stick together and look out for each other.

"Whether we like it or not

"He seems to have an eagerness to fight: This might be useful in upcoming conflicts"

"But he's a fanatic!" Xerxes said "Such an outlook has no place in guerrilla warfare!"

"Hey!" Bishop snarled "The last time I checked I was giving the orders around here!"

Immediately the Rogue Trader fell silent.

I merely shrugged.

After all, this is a company made up of a deserter of a cynical disposition, a loser who relies on lies to keep his mind stable, a career soldier who has traded one war of another and a hand to hand expert who has a rather joyous outlook on warfare.

What difference would one more madman make?

* * *


	24. Gunner

Dark Shard - Angelus Erroneous 24

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous  
**Author**: Spike  
**Chapter:** Twenty Four

Bishop surveyed the company: Xerxes, Jessie and myself all stood ready for action. The only exception was our latest recruit, the priest, who was still face down on the ground unconscious. Up above us all, the sun was already creeping its way up into the sky.

"Its possible the Orks may have heard the priest bellowing his guts out" I noted "Chances are they may be upon us at any given moment"

"True" Bishop growled "In any case, they may already be awake by now and begun to move

"So we should open this capsule, get whatever else we can and get out of here as soon as possible!"

The rest of us nodded.

"What about him?" Jessie asked, nodding towards the prostrate form before us.

"We're taking him with us" Our Fearless Leader replied "Even if we have to carry him"

I mentally groaned. I could clearly tell what this might involve

"We have to get to safety and persuade him to join us" Bishop declared.

"You really think hell join us?" Xerxes inquired.

"If he's so keen to bring all heathens to the Emperors light like he says then he has a whole planet of green-skins to choose from"

And with that, Bishop turned his attention to the second, as yet unopened, capsule.

"In the meantime" he went on "How about we see what the person in here has to say for themself."

Like before, Our Fearless Leader knelt down before it and began fiddling with the control panel on the front of the capsule.

He then paused.

"Why aren't I hearing the sounds of weapons being readied?" he snapped "You miserable maggots are meant to be covering me!"

Immediately, a response came in the form of my bolt pistols and Xerxes lasgun being armed.

But had Bishop not have his back to us, he would've noticed my guns weren't aimed at the capsule but at his head...

Just then, something upon the capsule clicked - Bishop immediately leapt back and prepared his own lasgun. If the last encounter was anything to go by, Our Fearless Leader wasn't in anyway prepared to take any chances.

As before, a huge cloud of steam burst forth from the freshly opened capsule. In amongst it all, I could see a dark form rise up from the capsule - its movements slow and leaden, as if it had been kept in stasis for a long amount of time.

Eventually the steam dissipated revealing the dark form to be a man.

The man who staggered from the capsule certainly was an impressive sight. He was of a large frame, easily the largest I had seen since arriving on this miserable rock, and was dressed in a combat pants, a black t-shirt and a commando jacket. The man also boasted a pointed goatee, spiky black hair and a pair of dark eyes.

But what eyes! For me they were the most immediate thing about him. They radiated with a sense of danger and ruthlessness that would be best suited to a Dark Eldar. This man had the eyes of someone who had seen thousands die without a single trace of remorse and the presence that screamed menace. In short, he had a look of someone who would slit a throat for a single measly cred.

And a good reason to keep my fingers ready on the rigger of my bolt pistols

In retrospect I would've been better off gunning down him right there and then.

But, like I did with Xerxes, I didn't.

You would think that I would've learned not to make the same mistake twice...

The newcomer blinked through the smoke and then he spoke.

"Where the hell am I?"

These words issued from vocal chords clearly unsuited for proper public speaking it was more a ruthless growl - Thus giving another sign that this man was too obviously the kind who would kill us all given the chance.

I looked at everyone else. Xerxes kept his rifle trained, Laertes was still out cold, Jessie didn't seem interested at all. Yet, one of them seemed to show any sign that they thinking the same thing I was.

But there was an exception.

It's name was Bishop.

He was studying the newcomer with a curious eye. Judging by the lines evolving across his face, he was reaching the same conclusion as me.

But unlike me, he reached a different conclusion - the most telling factor being that his eyes were shining.

My blood ran cold - this was the first time I had ever seen him like this.

And as this was from a psychotic who abuses the people in his command and kills without a second thought, it was a damn good reason for alarm.

Our Fearless Leader gazed at the man with an analytical eye, studying him, noting his muscular frame, his battle-hardened appearance and something that resembled a homicidal impulse lurking in his facial expression. And yet Bishop showed no sign of fear or caution. All he could see was, even I still refuse to believe it, admiration.

It was only later that I realized what Bishop saw: His experience as an Imperial Guard CO had yielded an uncanny ability to analyse anyone he came across. This then led him to make an estimation, both immediate and accurate, of just how capable they were in the field of combat.

And as a result, those who he deemed worthy, he took something of a shine to.

But if our resident psychotic sees an underling worthy of hanging onto, it makes me wonder just what type of bastard this underling has to be.

Xerxes kept his lasgun trained on the newcomer. I did the same as Bishop fixed the man with a steely gaze.

"Who are you?" the man snarled.

"I am First Lieutenant Pike Bishop" Our Fearless Leader answered "63rd Company, VIth Battalion of Catachan"

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Imperial soldiers?" he said "You mean I'm on an Imperial world?"

Bishop exchanged glances with the rest of us.

"Well, sort of" he replied "We just happen to be this planet's Imperial representatives"

I found it difficult to not burst out laughing. What type of bullshit was this? Did Our Fearless Leader really believe we were still part of the Imperium?

"Representatives?" came the reply.

Bishop's eyes hardened.

"What I am about to tell you" he said slowly "May not be what you want to hear but its the honest truth

"You are like the rest of us in that you're marooned on a planet far beyond the borderlines of the Imperium. We are the only humans on this planet and we fighting only to survive."

The man blinked but remained silent. He seemed to be taking this revelation in.

He hasn't kick up a fuss yet - he's the first to do so on this planet.

Yet he's taking this revelation rather too well for my liking...

"Each day we are fighting a guerrilla war just to..."

"Against who?" the man interrupted.

Bishop blinked at this interjection. I too raised an eyebrow.

"Orks" Our Fearless Leader replied.

"Sounds good to me" the man replied.

My gaze hardened. This guy had the audacity to interrupt Bishop - he had the balls to do what myself and Xerxes couldn't. But what was surprising was that Bishop didn't make any sort of move to react. No uppercut with the well-used bionic arm, no bellowing best suited to an Imperial Guard parade ground and no broken bones or rearrangement of any limbs.

This was unbelievable - Bishop had only just met this asshole and already he was letting him get away with so much.

Bishop grinned a wolfish grin.

"I assume you'll then be joining us?"

"You shall"

"Where you from, son?"

I raised an eyebrow. He's addressing the man as such? This wasn't like him.

And I wasn't liking this interaction at all.

"I'm from Necromunda"

Upon hearing this, Bishop looked over my way

"Hear that Narc?" he sneered "You're both from the same planet. Bet you both have lots of fun stories to share with each other"

I mentally cursed - Our Fearless Leader seemed awfully aware of my suspicions.

What the hell is with his ability to read people - does he have some kind of sixth sense?!

Bishop then turned back to the newcomer.

"Seeing as you're from that infamous hive world I trust that you have lots of combat experience?"

"That I do" the man replied "Intricate knowledge of weapon design, maintenance and manufacture; understanding on several types of heavy weaponry and how to use them and how to use a wide range of explosives."

"Impressive" Our Fearless Leader mused "Previous experience?"

"A Heavy for a Van Saar gang"

Bishop then turned to me

"Translation?"

"He used a whole plethora of heavy weapons for a group of fighters renowned for being the most technologically advanced of the Hive World" I answered.

"Well then" Bishop grinned, turning back to address the man "Today is your lucky day: I could really do with someone like you"

"Whats your name?" he then asked.

"Name's Innokenti" the man replied "But you can call me Deacon"

Bishop grinned an evil grin.

"Deacon" he echoed "I like it"

Funnily enough, I don't.

I exchanged looks with my comrade, looking for support. Xerxes seemed wary and Jessie still didnt show any sign of interest.

Some support...

Bishop then turned to the rest of us.

"All right then!" he barked "We're getting out of here - no doubt the Orks are already on their way here. And whats more were going as a group.

"All six of us"

"What" Xerxes interjected, nodding towards the prostrate form of the still out-cold priest "Including him?"

"Well congratulations Rogue Trader" Our Fearless Leader answered "You've just volunteered to haul him all the way out of here!"

As Xerxes' face collapsed into exasperation, I smiled to myself. Nice going Xerxes - you just took a bullet for me!

I looked at Jessie. She didn't smile - nor did she show any sign of the humour of the situation. Stranger and stranger..

"You say you know much about weapon manufacture" Our Fearless Leader said to Deacon. "Get aboard that ship and try and find something you can use"

"Will do"

"Find something and get out of there - we'll reconvene in ten minutes westward"

Deacon nodded.

"Everyone!" Our Fearless Leader yelled to the rest of us "Move out!"

And we all headed back into the jungle,

* * *

Later, we reconvened somewhere within the depths of the jungle.

Our flight from the ruined prison ship was a quick one: We were all concerned with putting as much distance between us and it, so the Orks wont suspect our secreted presence on their planet.

All in the name of survival.

Not that it had anything to offer us anyway.

We all moved in dispersed formation: distanced enough not to draw attention but close enough not to lose track of each other. This was to watch out for each other.

And was just as well that we did because I kept noticing Jessie exhibit signs of extremely erratic behaviour: Occasionally, she would stop and turn around to look directly behind her: She paid no attention whatsoever to the rest of us and looked longingly back the way we came.

It seems that someone didn't like the idea of retreating from danger.

At one point I noticed she had fallen behind so I went back to check on her. There she stood, her ears alert and her eyes gleaming with a passion just waiting to be let out. Her fist was moving from clenching to being closed and back again.

She looked like someone heeding no other call but the one of battle.

Thinking quickly, I turned around and headed back in her direction

She didn't show any type of awareness towards my approach.

Of course she would have to be bonkers to flee from a mob of Orks when were fighting a continuos guerrilla war against an enemy that doesnt know were here.

No scratch that: She's bonkers full stop.

As I approached, She still didn't show any type of awareness towards my presence. She still kept an eye up ahead and her eyes glared with ferocity. She looked ready to reach for one of her knives she had around her waist and rip to shreds anything that dared get within a five metre radius.

This prompted I could feel a cold shiver run up my spine.

Now I have known many women in my time as an Imperial Guardsman but none of them created an impression like that.

Meaning this was one woman who actually had a presence that commanded respect.

Or something like that.

In retrospect however, this was the most eager I had seen the woman since our first meeting this morning. And having fought both in the hive world of Necromunda and the Imperial Guard I could recognise this eagerness from a mile away. It was an eagerness to heed the call of battle. It was an eagerness to hunt down anything that moved and kill it no matter where it hid. It was an eagerness to ignore all other commands except the one of bloodlust.

And in the case of bloodlust, the distinction between friend and foe tends to crumble.

And that thought alone was troubling.

Jessie and I had only just met but already, we seemed to have some sort of chemistry established: Indeed, I found her the easiest to get along with - Far better than the other idiots Im forced to hang around with who ranged from the dangerous (Deacon, Bishop and the priest) to the downright annoying (Xerxes).

Needless to say, the thought of being killed by her was quite troubling particularly if she possessed a bloodlust that made it

Still such a thought did have an upside: being killed by a fox like that would be far more pleasing way to go out than being killed by a stinking green-skin.

But in any case, we cant stay here: we have to move.

Surely she understands that.

My approach continued but still she didnt show any type of indication. Instead she still looked back into the jungle looking for some signs of an Ork approach.

Yes, she seemed ready for combat but such readiness needs an outlet - in one form or another.

It made me wonder if I was putting my life on the line here.

But then again, thats not the first time in this life that I thought such things.

I had now traversed into a distance of at least two feet away from her.

And still she seemed oblivious to me. Her fist was still repeatedly clenching only now it had grown faster.

With unease resting on my mind, I moved my hand forward.

And touched her arm.

In a split second she went into danger mode: She raised her arms in a defence manner and she whirled around.

It was then I saw it.

It was only for a split second but it was long enough to confirm what Id believed.

There, in Jessies eyes, I saw a spark. A spark that radiated with fire, rage and an uncontrollable urge that knew no boundaries.

I knew it: Bloodlust. Sure I was concerned about it but that was in grim humour: seeing it in all its glory was no laughing matter

Of course I was expecting Jessie rip my head off there and then.

But she didn't.

Yet what was equally surprising was how, upon being confronted with the sight of my face, quickly the spark died away.

I blinked in surprise, as Jessie blinked back, as if surprised to see me.

Welcome back from outer space

"Yes?" she said, recovering quickly.

"We're moving" I replied "We gotta stay together: Best not to get separated"

She blinked again before nodding.

"Right then"

My eyes hardened.

"Are you all right?" I inquired.

"I am fine" Jessie replied "There is no need for you to be so concerned"

"Apart from maybe the fact that were the only humans on this planet and the need to stay together as a group" I countered.

"You just keep watching your back" she retorted "And I'll do the rest"

"Um... You do you realise we are all fighting for our survival out here?"

"Survival is dependent on getting them before they get you, right?"

"Well...yes" I began

"So we should hunt down every last one of them - that way they wont even think before coming to look for us!"

Needless to say, I wasn't expecting a response like that. I took a step backwards in shock.

"That's a bit extreme isn't it?" I blurted out "And indeed way beyond the capabilities of guerrilla warfare!"

"Correct me if I'm wrong" she answered "But isn't the law of the universe to kill or be killed?"

And with that, she turned and walked past me, heading into the jungle.

I could feel a cold shiver run down my spine - each and every second spent in the company of this woman keeps revealing more and more about her.

But that's not to say that I am finding her company enjoyable.

Sure she is, out of the five companions I am forced into journeying with, easily the most desirable company - in more ways than one - but such knowledge is tempered by the observation that her behaviour is indeed erratic. What have I have witnessed is her enthusiasm for combat at its most ready.

And boy wasn't it a less than comforting sight.

It seems a peculiar partnership: a cynic with a nutcase.

But I guess in this case one can't choose their allies.

Otherwise I would've killed both Bishop and Xerxes long ago.

I paused and watched the woman disappear into the jungle.

Well get those Orks later on I said - softly but loud enough for her to hear. It seemed like an odd thing to say but if she is truly to the closest Ill ever get to finding a true ally then I should at least make the most of it.

A reply drifted my way but it wasn't the most comforting of notions:

"We should - after all, if they're going to come looking for us then the least we can do is spare them the trouble..."

* * *

Next Chapter  
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	25. Unity

Dark Shard - Angelus Erroneous 25

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous  
**Author**: Spike  
**Chapter:** Twenty Five

The priest fixed us all with a contemptuous glare.

"Now that you've regained consciousness" Bishop began "Perhaps you'll be more willing to cooperate"

Our Fearless Leader fixed the protesting holy man with a sinister glare. The priest himself was being held back by the combined efforts of both myself and Xerxes. While this was going Deacon watched us all with a sinister glare. Jessie however didn't show any sign of interest whatsoever.

We had all gathered in a clearing. Having established an excellent distance between ourselves and the crash site, we now began to focus on our other problem.

The priest.

Bishop figured his single-minded commitment to the God-Emperors name could be used to our advantage - provided we could get him on our side.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the holy man spluttered "You dare interfere with my work than you are all heretics the lot of you!"

"You're not going to get far with that attitude" Our Fearless Leader countered

And how could the priest do so? Sure he was up and about but he wasn't going to get far as both myself and Xerxes were holding him back. It wasn't an easy task though: Ever the fanatic, the priest struggled to get past us both. He constantly tried pushing his way past us in order to purify us all (his own words) and struggling to get within distance of ripping Bishops (the chief heretic) throat out.

Personally, if that was his true intention then I would most certainly let him but, seeing as he is worked up in a state of fanaticism it was most likely that he would kill me without just as easily.

Yet keeping a fanatic in check isnt the easiest of tasks: With each passing second of his continued confinement, the priest seemed to getting both angrier and stronger. Needless to say, there was no telling how longer myself and Xerxes could last.

I just hoped Bishop managed to clam this lunatic down before he started using us as an outlet for his fanatical rage...

"Just who are you people anyway?" the priest snapped.

"What?" Bishop retorted "You're actually interested in what we do? I thought we were all heretics in your eyes."

The priest snarled and struggled further.

Dammit, where was Deacon and Jessie during all of this?! Aren't they going to provide some kind of assistance here? You would have to blind not to see that this idiot of a priest is trouble!

"You know something _father_" Bishop said, proving appropriate venom on the address "You really should be helping your fellow man. And if I'm not mistaken, that does include us"

Upon hearing this, the priest really went off. His face went as red as the armour of a Blood Angel Space Marine and he began reaching for Bishop.

Dammit, Our Fearless Leader certainly isnt making things easier..

Looking at Xerxes, he looked to be holding the priest back with all of his strength but from the look of it, his grip seemed to be faltering.

I grit my teeth. At this rate, the priest would eventually build up so much rage that he could easily break free.

Bishop however seemed unperturbed.

My eyes hardened. Just what the hell has he got planning in that demented mind of his?!

If he can stay unflappable in a chaotic situation such then his mind must be demented beyond human recognition.

Not that such a thing matters being with this company.

Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to catch a glimpse of Jessie and Deacon. The former sat with her back to us, seemingly oblivious to what was happening around her. Even if I couldn't see her face I could tell she was in her 'sullen' mood.

Mind you, with the trouble this priest is causing us her psychotic persona would be more than welcome.

Deacon on the other hand, was paying a large amount of attention the drama unfolding before him. However, he wasn't in any rush to intervene. Instead he was taking the role of a glorified spectator! He sat there, with his heavy stubber cradled across his lap, watching this

He seemed to me to be well aware of the drama unfolding before him so I mouthed the words: _Little help here_!

Deacon seemed to pick up on this for he then smiled.

.And calmly reached into his commando jacket.

What was he getting? A knife? A grenade?

Having to share this planet with some less than desirable company, I doubt there's little left that can surprise me.

Deacon then pulled out a small box. He opened it, reached in and pulled out...

...a cigarette.

I blinked as he lit it up and began puffing away.

Oh youve got to be kidding me.

As he puffed, he never took his eyes off myself, Xerxes and the struggling priest.

And neither did he show any signs of intervening.

Asshole...

Oh well, perhaps I was wrong: Maybe there are a few things left on this planet that can still surprise me.

But he could certainly do a bit more to help us out!

Meanwhile, Our Fearless Leader fixed the (still struggling) priest with a sinister grin.

(I don't know how he can continue to persist - maybe there is some truth to the rumours that the Imperial holy men are blessed with insanely boundless amounts of strength granted by the God-Emperor himself)

"Tell me father" Bishop inquired "Isn't it said somewhere in the teachings that anger is one of the worst sins a man can commit?"

The priests brow furrowed and his struggling seemed to subside.

"Well...it does say in some of the more ancient texts" he managed to mumble "...I know it does...Somewhere..."

"Maybe in the back?" I muttered.

But amazingly no one seemed to notice.

"So in that sense" Our Fearless Leader went on "You shouldn't be angry at us at all. In fact you should be grateful that we saved your life!"

"Why should I be grateful towards the scum that keep me restricted like this?!" the priest roared back.

"Damn it man!" Xerxes exclaimed "You certainly are a restless..."

He never got to finish his sentence for the priest immediately locked him in a ferocious gaze.

"You engage in profanity as well do you?" he growled "You're all alike! It makes me wonder if there is anything worth saving here!"

Let me think on that one... No.

"That wasn't the best choice of words there" I growled at Our Fearless Leader through gritted teeth.

Bishop merely shrugged and then he returned to addressing our unwilling captive.

"Well then Father..." he said.

I blinked. Whats up with Bishop today? I don't ever recall him addressing newcomers in such a formal manner. He had been doing it throughout this confrontation but this the first time he decided to drop whatever tone of sarcasm.

But amazingly, addressing the priest as such seemed to do the trick. He flicked his attentive gaze to Our Fearless Leader and his struggling lessened.

Somewhat.

"Perhaps I should inform you of our situation" Bishop went on "We are the only humans on this planet: we five and yourself. We are fighting in the name of survival against an army of heathens who dare shun the name of the God-Emperor."

My eyes widened. So this is what Our Fearless Leader had planned? This is his method of getting the priest to cooperate with us?

He certainly had a way with words.

Who are these heathens? the priest said quickly.

You've got to admire fanaticism: the priest swallowed Bishops story all too easily.

"Orks"

"Then I shall accompany you and bring the green-skins the absolution they seek" the priest said without hesitation.

I blinked - just what the hell happened here? He goes from struggling against and arguing with us to accepting to join us in the blink of an eye?

Just how many guns short of an Imperator Titan is this guy?!

Bishop turned and grinned at me.

"I told you" he said "He'll come with us..."

* * *

And so on that day, this group of renegades found our ranks swelled. The three of us, myself, Xerxes and Bishop were joined by Jessie, Deacon and the priest. It was a comforting thought indeed having more numbers in the group now we could take on larger groups of Orks, devise better battle strategies, and have a greater chance of surviving longer.

Whatever good that was for.

Once we had all become acquainted with each other we then proceeded to get the newcomers to swear allegiance to us - being, of course, the only humans here and understanding the strength in numbers. Figuring that being stranded on an Ork World fighting a guerrilla war in the name of some futile concept of survival was better than being in the Penal Legion, Jessie and Deacon readily agreed. Even the priest seemed far from complaining.

And once that bond of trust (such as it was) was established, the priest then went on introduce himself as Laertes. He still seemed quite keen to 'burn all the green-skin heathens and bring them into His light' (his words naturally) but he didnt seem interested in taking his fanatical rage out on his fellow humans.

Luckily for the rest of us.

In a way he seemed a lot like Jessie: They seem willing to attack the enemy (even if they go about it different ways) but when the combat is over they are mostly harmless.

But by far Jessie is more attractive to the eye.

I wonder how many more people are fighting out in the Penal Legion who think the same?

Maybe thats where they all go.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent marching towards an unknown destination.

You would think that after spending so long on this planet we would have somewhere proper to go to.

But no, the only place were going is as far away from both the Orks and the cold hand of Death as we can possibly get.

As night fell, we set up camp. Each taking up our now familiar position within the branches of the strongest trees we could find.

I volunteered to take first watch. And so, everyone proceeded to make up their makeshift bedding. It may have been on odd choice for the newcomers but they all agreed, even Laertes, without argument.

And so as everyone drifted off, I took up my vigil.

Of course, I wasnt expecting anything to show up: No, I needed to get my thoughts together,

Three more newcomers. Three more lunatics to spend the rest of my miserable life with. But much like the other two, they werent the most desirable company. The priest was completely insane: no doubt about it. He had well and truly crossed the threshold in fanaticism. Thus there was the question of whether he is truly a trustworthy ally.

The same could also be said for Deacon. I don't know what the hell is on his mind but he looks much like the type that one would want watching their back (He will most likely stab you at first opportunity)

And then there was Jessie.

I paused looking up at night sky.

If anything, Jessie seems to be the only person who I seem to get along best with. And when that person is a schizophrenic who lives for battle, you know that's saying a lot.

She seems to show some appreciation for my company. Shes the only one whom responds to me best. And she is the only human in this group that I don't want to kill.

What a fantastic chemistry we have.

And in that sense she may be worth looking out for..

A schizophrenic and a deserter. What a combination.

I caught myself: What the hell is with this odd attraction? Have I really been away from women so long? If I really wanted a fuck that badly I would've satisfied such a need with Xerxes.

The thought of that immediately sickened me. What the hell was I thinking?! If anything I would rather kill him first.

No hold on, I would rather kill him PERIOD.

What the?

What was that?

I could've sworn I had just seen some kind of movement.

With my two trigger fingers armed and ready, I scanned the jungle floor.

And then something did emerge from the darkness

It was Jessie.

I could only see an outline but I knew it was her: From such light movements that were made and a slender frame - both of which could never belong to my male comrades.

I dared not make a sound or any type of movement.

What the hell was she doing wandering off like this?

She moved towards the trunk of nearby tree and immediately started crawling up. Within seconds she had disappeared into the foliage.

I raised an eyebrow. Why was she wandering off like that?

Immediately thoughts came rushing into my head: Is she keeping something hidden away from us all? Is she working for some greater power? Does she have some sort of mind to sell us out the Orks? Is she with some Chaos God? Or she a mole from the Imperium itself?

Hold on. Scratch that last notion: That seems ridiculous in that why would the Imperium give so big a rats arse about bunch of deserters and renegades?

In fact, now that I think about it such notions seem terribly melodramatic but Ive been on this planet long enough to conclude that there is little left that can surprise me.

Just then, something happened which jolted me back to reality.

Another shape was making movements down below.

It was moving at a somewhat quick pace. Judging by its movements whatever it was, was moving with a rathe bizarre amalgam of unease and anticipation most horrid

As I studied the new shape, I managed to pick out an outline. And a disturbingly familiar one at that.

It was Xerxes.

My eye grew curious. What was going on here.?

With making as little noise as possible, Xerxes crept along the jungle floor, towards the general direction of Jessies tree.

I closed my eyes in exasperation. Oh no, don't tell me.

Still, a twisted sense of voyeurism compelled me to open my eyes. And there I saw Xerxes locate Jessies tree. Already he was making his way up the trunk.

He didn't seem at all aware of my presence.

I sighed and turned away. It didn't take a Tech-Priest of Mars to work out what was in his mind. Hes certainly game thats for sure. And for that you had to give him credit.

I didn't bother to look at what could be transpiring in Jessie's tree. I just stared into inky blackness.

And then I heard it.

A loud scream of pain.

It came shrieking through the air

Battle hardened senses urged me to look back over my shoulder. And there, I saw Xerxes come plummeting down from the darkened heights of the trees branches. He hit the ground with a great thud.

Naturally, he didn't move save for emitting a soft groan.

I shrugged. I guess he wont be doing something like that again anytime soon.

* * *

The next morning, we carried on through the jungle, still keeping one step ahead of the Orks all in the name of some pitiful survival.

Bishop naturally took the lead. He marched on through the jungle with his back to us.

I had no idea what he was thinking but he seemed to be as close to high spirits as Ill ever see him. High spirits eh? What, he has found more underlings for him to bully around? Well, he is a former Imperial CO - I guess they can only be happy once they have a number of idiots to order around.

And, like they say, the more the merrier.

Surely there cant that be so many gullible idiots in this universe?!

Sorry, my mistake - there are that many gullible idiots. How else to explain the Imperial Guard having so many large companies of infantry?!

But the more I thought about it, the more I realised something:

If Bishop truly was in high spirits, purely on the delightful prospect of having more underlings to boss around, then he must have someone who managed to catch his eye. Someone who shows all signs of everything an Imperial CO could want in a soldier: Efficiency, obedience, reliability and an approach to whatever tasks they're assigned that's both professional and takes no prisoners.

That someone being Deacon.

Speaking of which, Deacon was at the other end of the group: he was bringing up the rear. But he wasnt really watching out for the green-skins on the way we had come - He was instead keeping an eye on us all with a massive gun in hand.

Hardly a comforting thought...

Anyway, I recognised his gun immediately as a heavy stubber I had faced many such weapons in my time in the underhives of Necromunda. I had know idea where he managed to find one out here - It was most likely he would've picked it up from the prison ship but I doubt that the guards would have a weapon of that caliber stored on board a ship filled with lunatics both dangerous and of homicidal intent. Besides, I figured that the guards would be more into items of suppression.

Having a powerful gun on a ship would be impractical both for its size and ineffective ability for keeping the prisoners alive

Not that anyone in the Imperium wants all prisoners to remain that way anyway.

Yet if my experience with Imperial COs is anything to go by, if Deacon represents the type of man that all Imperial commanders want under their charge then they must have a completely poor judge of character.

And makes me also wonder just what our newest recruit has got on his mind.

I flicked my gaze over my shoulder back at him. Deacon was lumbering his way through the jungle, cradling his massive gun like it was the most precious thing in the world to him.

Of course, being in a hostile environment, that would be logical but seeing such a notion in the eyes of someone of that calibre presents a picture most disturbing.

He claimed to be from Necromunda, having been previously affiliated with Van Saar house. I knew their type: they were humourless gunmen who had a reputation of having the best guns and being capable of putting one together without difficulty.

This in turn painted a worrying picture for me in that Deacon must not only know what hes holding but how to use it.

Suddenly he caught sight of me and he grinned...

...As if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Needless to say, I immediately broke eye contact.

Naturally, it would be foolish to cross someone of that size and carrying an enormous gun - this was after all, the universe of the 41st Millennium.

Like they say: One man who has a big gun and knows it will always beat ten men who have and don't.

But in a situation like this, where safety in numbers is paramount and we are all fighting for our survival, we all have to rely on each other.

Regardless on how desperate or detestable our allies are.

And so far, I have seen no reason to trust Deacon at all.

Of course if Bishop had taken a shine to him then Deacon would most likely turn out to be something of a lapdog (its been known to happen. After all, in this universe anyone and everyone will do exactly what it takes to save their own hide). And like any other lapdog, he would most likely be far more concerned with kissing the arse of Our Fearless Leader than addressing any areas of danger.

But even as such a thought occurred to me, how wrong it would turn out to be..

Determined to erase all thoughts of Deacon from my mind, my eye then travelled, eventually resting eyes on the priest.

He made his way through the jungle

I still thought it was a stupid idea to bring a fanatic along with us when we are fighting a guerrilla war. What kind of ferocity abides to the rules of stealth? Hell just give us all away at the first sign of trouble.

Even now, when were all walking through the jungle, he doesn't seem to be made for fighting a guerrilla war: His feet came thudding down on the ground, his gaze was quick, his movements were tainted with paranoia, his lips were whispering something undeterminable (however a likely determination would be a prayer to the God-Emperor) and he seemed somewhat oblivious to the rest of us.

Yet the priest seemed somewhat subdued since our first encounter. Yet this current state wasn't one worth writing home about. He still seemed eager to strike down an enemy with the velvet hammer.

I just hope it wasn't me.

Suddenly a thought struck me.

I wonder if Bishop, Laertes and Deacon were in anyway aware of what transpired the night before?

It seemed unlikely that they wouldn't have slept through his scream of pain or him hitting the ground from falling out of a tree.

I just hope that little transgression didn't end up attracting the attention of the Orks.

No, they would've already attacked by now.

I cast a look over at Jessie. Right now, if her expression was anything to go by, she was in her sullen mood. She didn't seem to show any indication of the event the night before nor did she seem bothered about injuring Xerxes.

Man, I like this woman...

Just then, my thoughts were broken with the sound of a cough.

"I say old man" the ever annoying voice of the Rogue Trader said "You seem oddly silent"

I flicked my gaze over to him. Immediately I picked up a piece of cloth wrapped and tied around his arm. A second piece of cloth was arranged in similar fashion o his upper leg.

"Shouldn't I be?" I countered "Last time I checked we were relying on stealth"

"Well, I was thinking" Xerxes replied "That seeing we have some new recruits within our ranks, we would be a lot more talkative!"

"Talkative?" I sneered "With what? A psychopath, a thug and a fanatic?! You certainly have an eye for company!"

"Well you could at least try talking to them!" he snapped back.

I raised an amused eyebrow at this sudden raise of his voice: Whats this, his 'outdoor' voice?

"What are you talking about?" I grinned "I don't see you trying"

Xerxes blinked.

"I thought you had already tried to get close with the woman..." he started.

"And it would seem that you did as well" I finished

Immediately the Rogue Trader fell silent.

I turned away from him and continued on my way, a smile of sweet victory written across my face.

* * *

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	26. Fanaticism

Dark Shard - Angelus Erroneous 26

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous  
**Author**: Spike  
**Chapter:** Twenty Six

And so the newly formed group moved on.

The rest of the day wasn't at all in the way of eventful. All we did was tramp through this seemingly never-ending jungle, relying on our wits and our knowledge of stealth.

The Orks seemed unusually quiet today. There were no groups out and about - meaning we had little left to utilise our skills upon.

Still it wasn't any excuse to let our tactics and now familiar methods go stale. If we are going to continue in this way of getting things done then we may as well get used to it.

But for me, the quiet pace of the day presented itself an interesting opportunity to see how we (that being Bishop, Xerxes and myself) interact with the newcomers.

And the newcomers with themselves.

The first that few under my gaze would be Laertes.

And how could you miss him?

He certainly wasn't the most silent member in this group of guerrilla fighters. And sure he seemed eager to vent his fanatical anger onto the Orks but that didn't mean he was the most cooperative of individuals. With each step he took, he kept murmuring something under his breath, no doubt numerous prayers of battle and absolution to the God-Emperor. Likewise, he would occasionally scream and shoot out a jet of flame from his flamer - at something that wasn't there in the first place.

(except a lot of seemingly hostile undergrowth)

It certainly seemed a stupid idea giving a priest that particular weapon but he was given a choice and he did choose that one.

It seems fitting in a way but such a line of thought doesn't always win battles.

Still, the most interesting thing about him I found was in the way we all dealt with him: he was a man of the cloth, someone of an important position in the Imperial hierarchy and, essentially, the only ones who are closest to the God-Emperor than anyone else. Thus, being in possession of such a position, he demanded respect unconditional.

So it was interesting to see, over the course of the day, none of us gave him such.

But why should we? After all, in this world, survival is everything ranks and hierarchy don't mean a single damn thing. Sure, he may be closer to the God-Emperor than the rest of us but that doesn't mean anything when you're fighting Orks on a daily basis. Except that when his time comes, hes off to a better place.

I'm not bothered by such a notion. After all, there are worse places than this.

The Penal Legion and the Executioner's block being two prime examples.

But even if none of us addressed Laertes as 'Father' there was an exception:

Unsurprisingly, it was Bishop.

Our Fearless Leader, no doubt drawing from his years of military experience, still used the proper address of 'Father' and Laertes still seemed to respond to it but this did nothing to inspire the rest of us to follow suite.

It wasn't much of a shock that the only one to acknowledge Laertes' title and importance was the only other person who held a proper rank and title within the military. Yet this wasn't the most comforting of notions: Not once since his arrival did Our Fearless Leader show any type of acknowledgment to the notion of survival: Instead he enforced some kind of hierarchy through the type of thuggery that was not unheard of within the Imperial Guard. He made sure everyone was both listening to and obeying him and ensuring that those who didn't were suitably punished.

And since Bishop was the only one who addressed Laertes as 'Father' it was thus a small wonder that Our Fearless Leader was the only one who the priest listened to.

In retrospect perhaps it wasnt surprising that Bishop and Laertes got on so well together: After all, it seemed that they were both cut from the same cloth: One was a former CO who, being trained to kill, can't seem to tell any differences between various battlefields whilst the other was a priest who saw nothing but heathens all lined up to have a velvet hammer brought down upon them.

With such intention, it makes me wonder if they will ever find satisfaction to their needs for combat.

And whether or not such needs demand that they find it in their fellow humans

Well, in the event that that happens, I guess I can only hope that Bishop and Laertes find it in themselves

I strode up to walk alongside the priest.

"Hey _Father_"

Having the distinction of being the closest to the Emperor, meant he had to be addressed properly as 'Father' and demand unconditional respect from all of us.

Well we could but the truth be told survival kind of takes a greater priority.

The priest didn't say anything. Instead, he fixed me with a black look.

"What do you want?" he grumbled, obviously not in the mood for sarcasm.

But I dont see any reason to stop delivering it.

"Is that a proper way to address a member of the flock?" I sneered.

He didn't reply - instead he fixed me with a glare that would make a Tyranid warrior sit up and take notice.

"Whats the matter?" I grinned "The God-Emperor let you down?"

And what happened next happened very quickly.

In a flash, Laertes reached out and grabbed me by the front of my shirt. Then he proceeded to lift me several centimetres off the ground and prod the nuzzle of his flamer underneath my chin.

I blinked - he's certainly has some strength in arm.

Perhaps I was wrong - Maybe the priest has got something underneath that threadbare robe of his.

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Laertes growled.

I began to feel uneasy. I wasn't liking the way this was heading.

"If anything, they sound very much like the words of a heretic"

So this priest seems perfectly willing to turn his gun onto his newly-found allies?

This isnt good.

Suddenly, time seemed to come to a standstill: What may have taken seconds to pass seemed like an eternity. All of my other comrades seemed to vanish - it was as if they couldn't see this drama unfolding before them (how couldn't you?! You would have to be blind!)

I guess this type thing happens when youre facing death in the face.

I pondered on reaching for my holsters where my trusty bolt pistols lay - but for some reason I felt somewhat reluctant to shoot him. Maybe I just didn't have the heart to shoot another human (no doubt inspired by spending so long fighting lots of Orks)

I only wish he felt the same.

"You my son" the priest growled "Are a long way from the God-Emperor"

Well, considering that we are on an Ork World way beyond Imperial space, isnt that kind of stating the obvious?

"So in that case" Laertes went on "I think its time you both got reacquainted!"

And with that, he threw back and out of his grip. I staggered back on my feet but still managed to keep standing. As I retained my balance, the priest reached into his robe and pulled out a battered-looking book.

He grinned at me with eyes that could only come from a fanatic.

"Now hear this!" he declared "You will be saved yet!"

And immediately, he began reading the text:

"And the God-Emperor came to mankind in its darkest hour, when it had been abandoned by its old gods and lost in the Age of Strife. Like a beacon, the God-Emperor shattered the darkness that clouded the eyes of the humans and..."

I groaned. I can see where this is going...

Laertes however continued rattling on.

"...And when the daemons and abominations of Chaos saw the progress that had been made, they sought to reclaim their prize and bring humanity back into darkness. They offered various forms of temptation and corruption but none succeeded as the God-Emperor smote the deviants with righteous fury..."

I blinked - funny, I figured he would've heard my groan. It seemed loud enough and he was certainly in earshot.

Instead he continued on his triad:

"...and the God-Emperor said: 'Be it known that I have defeated the forces of Chaos. And with these hands, I grant all of humanity to do the same...'"

My brow furrowed - Is it just me or has he suddenly forgotten all about me?

I shrugged and quietly made my way through the jungle and back into the general direction of everyone else.

I could still him prattling on as he walked off:

"...And the people rejoiced within the light of God-Emperor knowing full well that salvation would come to all believers..."

He didnt seem aware of my leaving.

I carried on my way - It seemed cruel to walk away and leave him continue to rattle in an oblivious manner but hey, hell pick it up it eventually.

Of course I could tell him but theres no way Im going to deal with someone who can jump into a homicidal intent at the drop of a hat.

And there is always the danger of his prattling attracting the attention of Orks but I have no fear: Considering he has both a flamer and a fanaticism reaching the point of being homicidal, such encounters would be far from a problem.

Besides, being so far away from him gives me the necessary time to think.

Laertes certainly makes for some lively company, I'll give him that. But what bothers me is ...well lots of things but what bothers me the most that he is completely blinded by his fanaticism.

And the more he hangs around us, the more hes giving out plenty of indications that he is completely unsuited to this combat environment.

And indeed a liability to our cause.

Sure he may have some sort of amusement value (in some weird sort of way) but fanatics are definitely not the type who you laugh at.

And when youre living in the 41st millennium, that is saying a lot.

Deacon, however was something of a curious case: he seemed awfully silent. He seemed to have an extensive knowledge of arms and armaments but, allegedly, no proper military experience. He says to have come from Necromunda but that isnt the most comforting of notions: I too came from that wretched Hive World and I can say that place is loaded to the brim with homicidal lunatics who can kill without a second thought. So dangerous was that environment that signing up to join the Imperial Guard seemed as good an escape as any.

But what is also troublesome is that he seems to have a degree of knowledge that rises above that of the typical underhiver. If what he claims is correct then him being a Heavy certainly justifies his diverse understanding of firearms and explosives.

And in some cases, intelligence is a very dangerous thing to be in possession of.

It raises the question: Just how on Earth did he manage to both get off the Hive World and end up in an Imperial prison ship? I know the world of Necromunda and it is by far one of the most difficult places to get off world particularly if youre one of the Underhivers.

Of course, he couldve been like me and joined the Imperial Guard but I have my doubts.

But whatever the truth may be he certainly doesnt seem willing to part with it.

It seems that our new accomplices are indeed the types who keep their cards tightly close to their chests. But Im determined to find out what they may be hiding.

Call it an invasion of privacy but Im an army man: I rely on a chain of command and the peace of mind that the other guys I fight with are the types who watch my back with unbroken vigilance. So whatever these secrets Jessie, Laertes and Deacon may be hiding, they wont remain secrets for long.

I will find them out because I still have the data-slates I liberated from the prison ship.

However, regardless of what ill-feeling I may have for these unlikely companions it doesnt seem to be important now. What matters now was that we were all a team.

Such as it is.

Just then, an annoying voice brought me back down to Earth.

"Well then" Xerxes grinned "We certainly have acquired a fascinating group of companions!"

I mentally cursed - he just doesn't know when to shut up

Still I had to give him credit - he can certainly bounce back from being cut down by my previous comment.

"You really think that?" I grunted.

"Of course!" the Rogue Trader beamed "Our numbers have tripled from two to six! Think of it, we now have an army to take on those Orkish scum!"

"You call six people an army?"

"Well... a small one at least" Xerxes said "But that's beside the point! What matters now is that we have sufficient numbers to take to it the Orks! We can actually have a decent confrontation with them!"

"What" I sneered "Going up against them directly? That sounds very much like suicide to me!"

"But think of it..." the Rogue Trader started

"Think of what?" I interrupted "The fact that they don't know were here is the single best advantage we have. And what you're proposing is no excuse to throw it all away. You have to be an idiot to do a suicide charges when you're all trying to do is survive."

"Since when did you start caring about staying alive?" Xerxes countered

I blinked. Well, in spite of his nonsensical talk he can still deliver a razor-sharp comeback.

"That started when our chances of survival increased threefold"

To this the Rogue Trader fell silent.

"Besides" I added "Going up against the Orks in a direct attack hardly sounds like the words of someone who ran away"

Just then we heard a shout from out front

"Look lively there!" Our Fearless Leader barked "Cease your bickering pronto!"

"Whats up boss?" I answered, my voice dripping with sarcasm on the last word.

But if Bishop picked up on it he certainly didnt show it.

"Guess what boys and girl" he grinned "We're going into battle.

"We have just found ourselves an Ork encampment"

His grin of enthusiasm was the most frightening thing I had ever seen...

* * *

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	27. Battlefield

Dark Shard - Angelus Erroneous 27

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous  
**Author**: Spike  
**Chapter:** Twenty Seven

"An Ork encampment?" I echoed.

"That's right" Our Fearless Leader grinned "We're going to have a killing of a good time"

He grinned at his warped little joke. I however found nothing funny with it.

Nor did I appreciate the idea of going to combat.

Well not now anyway.

"You serious?" I said.

Bishop raised an eyebrow.

"Got a problem with that, _private_?"

"Aren't we jumping the gun a bit here?" I countered.

"What do you mean?"

"Fate has given us a reprieve by doubling our numbers" I said "And you want to herd them all into battle?"

"Of course" Bishop said nonchalantly

"That's how we do things in the Guard, remember?" he added, his voice increasing with sarcasm.

I looked around at my comrades: Deacon didn't look at all that bothered, Jessie seemed to have a raised eyebrow but Xerxes looked concerned.

And Laertes was absent probably still rattling on with his sermon.

We haven't had any combat experience! I spluttered You cant send us all into battle so soon! Its crazy!

"Well as is my understanding" Bishop countered "Deacon is from the hive world of Necromunda, Laertes is a former Imperial priest and Jessie is on her way to the Penal legion.

"They all sound like decent enough credentials to me"

I blinked.

"I would rather have someone I can trust watching my back..." I muttered.

It wasn't much of a comeback but it was all I can think of. Besides, since when did it become a crime to be honest?

"Well, then" Our Fearless Leader snapped "Perhaps now would be a good time to start building up some trust!"

Now its a crime it would seem.

"Correct me if I'm wrong" I said "But don't the rest of us have a say in this matter? Why should you speak on their behalf?"

I was really grasping at straws here but this was careering into madness. I had to provide some sense of reason

"Because Im the boss and I say so!" Bishop snarled.

But then again, since when, herein the 41st Millennium, did reason have any place whatsoever?

"Ranks mean nothing when were all trying to survive!" I retorted.

Bishop glared at me with an expression of fury that an Eldar Avatar would admire.

I cast quick glances my comrades. Jessie wore an expression of curiosity - the type that wondered why it was being denied from something good. Xerxes looked nervous and well on the edge but Deacon seemed somewhat amused.

"Well why don''t we ask them then" Our Fearless Leader growled.

"Jessie!" he then barked "What do you want to do?

"We could go after the Orks but apparently Narc doesn't think you have enough experience in combat! Perhaps you should remind that him you were on your way to the Penal Legion?"

"Ha!" I said "You don't know why Jessie was heading there. You don't know what, if any, crime she..."

"I want to hunt some Orks!" Jessie interrupted quickly.

Immediately both myself and Bishop fell silent. Immediately we both turned to the woman's direction.

I could feel my blood run cold. Her eyes were shinning, her grin was twisted as it was wide and she had the look of complete eagerness etched across her face.

She had that look - the one I had seen before.

And it didn't look any better to me.

"I want to hunt Orks" she repeated.

Then her gaze lowered, her eyes grew darker and her voice slowly started to resonate with venom: "That's what I want. Nothing else"

Needless to say, who was I do deny such a request?

I then found myself nodding my consent: Sure it was slow and full of unease, but when youre dealing with a psychopath you do whatever it takes to stay away from their bad side.

I blinked. Bishop however grinned in smug satisfaction.

"So what?" I growled "I'm still not following you."

Unusually, Our Fearless Leader didn't flinch. Regardless, I went on:

"You're crazy! This is sheer madness let alone reckless! I would rather..."

Suddenly I felt something - something that prodded it's way into my back.

I could feel my blood run cold - that felt very much like the sharp end of a knife.

Then a sinister voice came creeping into my ear.

"Disobeying your superior there" said a voice that could only belong to Deacon "Very big mistake there"

I found myself suddenly very quiet.

"Shall I break his arms?" Deacon inquired.

"Don't" Bishop said "He may have trouble following orders but he can still fight. And we need everyone fighting man we can get"

"I don't see why we just knock him out and leave him here" the gunner growled "With his carrying on, he seems more like a liability to me"

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. Such a line of thinking sounded oddly familiar...

"I don't know about you lot" Deacon went on "But I like to fight with someone whom you can trust. And in my books, numbskulls who question authority aren't at all trustworthy in the slightest"

I wasn't really liking the way this was going.

"Well then" Our Fearless Leader grinned "How about we teach him a lesson? Well just march into battle and drag him along kicking and screaming all the way. That way, hell learn that trust is usually formed under fire.

"Not handed to one on a silver platter"

Inside, I could feel every alarm bell going off. This wasnt looking good.

With impending doom racing down upon me at eighty miles per hour, there is no better motivation for quick thinking...

"What about the priest?" I managed to blurt out. This may be futile but if I go down I go down fighting!

"What about him?" came a voice from behind.

We all turned to see the Laertes shuffle up towards us. His face looked flushed and he was breathing heavily, as if he had been worn out from running a while.

But to me, he most likely wore himself out through his inane sermonising.

He blinked at us all in a curious manner, his face a state of bewilderment.

"Something the matter?" he asked, his voice measured "Is everything all right?"

This made me raise an eyebrow. Funny, wasnt he just rattling on about the glories of the God-Emperor to me mere minutes ago? Now, he seems to be acting like nothing has happened - its as if he had forgotten about it completely.

Strange but in a way beneficial: It means he wont try and take his fanaticism out on me. It also means that such a short-term memory (or so it would seem) can be played to my advantage.

"Are we all right?" the priest inquired again.

But before I could open my mouth, Our Fearless Leader cut in.

"Father" he said "We have received word that there some green-skins in the area. And they are a long way from the God-Emperors light"

And in an instant, Laertes, in perhaps his most placid mood, disappeared in a puff of smoke. Within seconds, the priests face grew twisted with rage, his eyes ignited with fury most fanatical and his mouth grew into a warped smile.

"Yes!" he thundered

I sighed. So much for wishful thinking.

Bishop turned to me and grinned evilly.

"It seems the priest wants to go with us and fight those Orks after all"

* * *

The encampment in question consisted of nothing more than a cluster of ramshackle huts. They were made from some kind of cheap metal and were built in a completely haphazard fashion. But there seemed to be something unusual about them. They looked more unmethodical than what I had seen before.

And seeing as these were Ork constructions that was saying a lot.

The green-skins who made up the encampment were indeed out and about, doing ...whatever it was that Orks do. Some were sitting about their huts, patrolling the rim of their territory, watching for any movement and keeping their guns and choppas handy.

Watching this, my eyes hardened. Something didnt seem right here.

The six of us all huddled atop a cliff. Below us stretched a valley where the Ork encampment lay. This gave us the perfect vantage point from which to observe the target and formulate a strategy. There was no way the green-skins could see us from up here.

But they could be able to hear us if that damn priest wouldnt shut up.

We had only taken up this position for mere minutes, but in that time the priests behaviour had become erratic (which is indeed saying a lot): Ever since he had caught sight of the green-skins, the first he had seen since arriving to this miserable rock, he had undergone something of a unlikely change: His facial expression became twisted with rage, his eyes burned with passionate fervour, his hands began twitching uncontrollably and his lips began muttering a battle prayer to the God-Emperor.

I had to admit this change was indeed unexpected. If anything it seemed to exhibit a ferocity that I never knew existed.

Hate to be around when the priest is at his worst...

Bishop studied the encampment with deep intent, his mind no doubt busy with formulating a plan. The rest of us sat around, waiting for a conclusion.

He cleared his throat.

"I can see about twenty Orks down there" he said at last "And no doubt there's more in those huts."

"Something doesn't fit here" I mused.

Just then I noticed everyone looking at me. I mentally cursed - seems Ive been thinking aloud.

"Whats this?" Deacon growled "The weakest link in the chain has something to say?"

My brow furrowed. Oh this is going to be fun.

"Something seems out of order here" I said.

"How so?" Bishop asked.

"These Orks seem to be acting differently than the rest"

"Funny" Xerxes grinned "I thought all Orks acted alike"

Everyone bar me laughed.

"No!" I said in frustration "Look at them: they all seem to be sitting around. Its as if they're guarding something...

"I mean, look at their buildings! If anything, they don't look like permanent buildings. They looked like they were thrown together in mere minutes and hardly seem permanent..."

"Don't all Ork buildings look like that?" Xerxes chuckled.

To this, Bishop and Deacon burst into laughter. Even Jessie grinned as the Rogue Trader continued:

"Ive never known the Orks for their architectural prowess!"

"If they really intend to move on within time" Deacon added "Then the least we could do is send them on their way!"

Bishop then chimed in: "If they are guarding something as you suggest then it could be something of value.

"Meaning I want it"

I sighed. Some times it really sucks to be the voice of reason.

Thinking aloud - I should really stop doing things like that.

* * *

Within moments we had all dispersed. Under the guidance of Our Fearless Leader, we had all spread to separate corners of the perimeter surrounding the Ork Camp.

Thus leaving the green-skins encircled and trapped with no way out.

Bishop had given us all specific instructions to deal the conflict approaching. He told us such roles were based on what he'd seen of us insofar. He seemed certain that if we pulled our strengths together, we could function well as a team.

Good luck...

No idea why we were all relying on the idiot. Sure he has the brains but he sure places his intelligence in a lesser priority than compared to his acts of thuggery. He is a leader when no one else is capable but that's not to say he is the best.

But it is being in fear of him that we all remained.

That and the high probability of him shooting us for disobeying his command.

I wonder why Bishops never managed to progress in rank beyond a lieutenant. If anything, he wouldve made a superb commissar.

All things considered it would've been the role he was born to play.

Not leading a bunch of misfits on a futile quest for survival.

But that's not to say he felt the same...

Anyway, we had all been assigned specific roles and designated with certain positions in order to face the conflict ahead.

Xerxes showed some use with his lasgun so he was positioned a distance from the village, ready to face the Orks sniper style. Bishop took up a similar position ready to shoot the green-skins who dared show their faces.

Since he carried the heavy stubber, Deacon had been assigned the role of providing covering fire. Again, he was positioned at a distance from the Ork encampment but closer to it than Bishop and Xerxes.

I had no idea as to whether I should be grateful for this: Yes it was a reassuring thought to have someone watching your back with a powerful weapon but I would rather have someone I can rely on.

As opposed to have someone who would seemingly shoot me without a second thought.

Considering the mayhem that is about to come, there is the likely chance that Deacon make take a shot at me. After all, hell be firing upon the Orks - and as they'll be many of them, it may be all too easy to get caught in the crossfire.

And whos going to notice a stray bullet?

Still, keeping him closer to the village suggest that hell be acting the guidance of Bishop. A comforting thought but not by much.

Anyway, going back to Bishop's plan, this left the rest of us to assault the encampment directly. Seeing as he was dealing with two complete nutters who were more than eager to spill Ork blood, namely Jessie and Laertes, he just simply allowed them the freedom to get in close and do whatever the hell they wanted.

This of course leaves me. With no better role in mind, and knowing my skills in using twin bolt-pistols, he simply let me join the frontal assault with the woman and the priest.

Not the most ideal situation - I strongly suspect hes trying to get rid of me. Or worse, trying to teach me a lesson on the dangers of speaking up against him.

In any case there's no way I want to be fighting alongside those two lunatics. Who's to say they wont try and kill me in the middle of all the mayhem...? When you're consumed with so much battle-lust does the distinction between friend and foe break down so easily?

I blinked. No, I shouldn't be pondering on such nonsense. We have job to do and we must remain vigilant.

The attack will begin as soon as the signal is made.

Then it struck me.

What the hell was the signal?!

Seriously, I cant recall what the signal was! I was present when Bishop made his plan clear but whilst he mentioned **A** signal he didn't say WHAT the signal was!!

My brow furrowed. Hes planning something, the cunning bastard that he is, but what?

Just then I heard a scream.

I looked up to see the priest come charging forth out from hiding. His eyes were blazing with rage, his mouth was paralysed in a bellow of vengeance and his flamer was spewing forth gouts of flame as if there was no tomorrow.

The few green-skins nearest to the encampment entrance looked up in surprise - that was until they were engulfed in the Purifying Flame of the Emperor.

(Or at least I think that what Laertes was shouting)

Then I noticed several of the Orks that had been singed: Most of them had been downed but the rest were still managing to stay up on their feet. Battle-forged instinct urged me to leap out of hiding, both my bolt pistols in hand and firing like crazy. Immediately, the few Orks that still stood few back down.

In the distance, I could see Jessie sprinting her way after the priest.

It then hit me: Laertes was the signal. Bishop was relying on the priests fanaticism to

He had been playing us all along!

But by that stage, I was too busy to care.

The battle was on.

* * *

By now the rest of Orks in the encampment sensed something was up. Already several more of them, no doubt surprised to us all, had all emerged into view ready for a rumble. Seven of them charged up, choppas at the ready.

But what they got was a maniacal priest armed with a flamer.

"Heathens!" Laertes bellowed "Fall down to your knees and receive the Emperors light!"

And with click, his flamer roared into life, sweeping its way into green-skin flesh. In an instant, the seven Orks were engulfed in flame and burnt to a crisp.

As the flames cackled, Laertes grinned evilly.

"This is mankind's universe!" he declared "You don't belong in it!"

And he strode of into the encampment and out of view.

I slowly made my way across the borderline of the encampment, in a lurking fashion.

It was just to keep a rearguard acting for the priest. At the moment, he was our best weapon against the Orks. Don't want him being struck down from behind - particularly when he currently seems to be in his element.

But the truth is, hes currently possessed by his fanaticism. And in that sense, there's no way in hell I'm going near him.

I then looked up to see Jessie heading in the direction after the priest. She then turned and saw me.

Now I have seen some frightening things in my time: I have seen Chaos Space marines. I have seen some of those huge Ogyrns break the bones of foes as if they were twigs. I have seen some how some of the sadistic techniques the Dark Eldar use in the torture of their victims. I have even seen some Chaos Daemons and, somehow, manage to keep my reason intact.

But none of those can hold a candle to the sadistic grin that was etched across Jessie's face.

I recognised the signs: The battle was on. She was already set on a killing spree and she wasn't going to stop until all her enemies were dead.

Or at least until she loses interest.

"Its party time" she grinned "Don't get left behind"

And with that, she dived into the fray and out of view.

Jessie being overcome by boredom? No chance in hell of that happening

Just then I noticed one of the Ork bodies that had just been incinerated by Laertes. One of them was managing to get up off the ground - somehow - and get to his feet. His flesh was cooked, leaving a mass of black and ash all over. But somehow in amongst that mess, I could pick up the sight of two distinct, red beady eyes.

No doubt looking for vengeance upon the nutter with the flamer.

I had to give the Ork credit: Such a move would have been a struggle in itself but, knowing the green-skins, they certainly take a lot of beating before they fall the ground.

I grinned evilly. Lets see how much they can take - I wonder if the Ork brain can still function even with a bullet in it...?

But before I could take aim, the air was split with the roar of a heavy stubber. Immediately, a carpet of bullets came thudding across the ground, slamming into the Ork bodies and downing the one still standing.

I spun my head around to catch a sight of, ahead in the distance, Deacon with his machine in hand and an evil grin.

No doubt he was making sure they were dead.

But the evil grin was enough for me to get moving - before he changes his mind as to what defines friend and foe.

Geez, why cant I find someone who would gladly watch my back?!

Shrugging I headed into the Ork encampment, bolt pistols blazing.

* * *

My trigger finger kept firing.

An Ork in front of me caught a bullet to the forehead, sending him crashing down in amongst the dust.

Orkish noises rang out across the air, mixing battle cries and the screams of the dying.

I could feel both my bolt pistols run red hot with constant firing.

Another Ork fell before me.

I couldnt tell what was happening. All around me was chaos and mayhem. Smoke was drifting about, indistinct shapes were running around all over the place, building was being felled in a blaze of heavy stubber fire, gunshots were ringing out all around and there was the unmistakable crunch of bone and flesh.

Another Ork fell before me.

Everything was happening so quickly.

Another Ork fell before me.

Behind me came the thudding of Bishops lasgun bolts and the grinding of miniaturised gears within his bionic arm.

Far off in the distance was the crackle of a flamer along with what seemed to be the sound of Laertes bellowing out an Imperial battle hymn.

Another Ork fell before me.

I could also see Jessie weave her way through a large group of green-skins, twisting and turning her body as with her sword cleaved a route through the Orks. Many of the green-skins tried to attack her head on but she outdid them all, working on their brutish movements to her advantage.

Another Ork fell before me.

I could feel my pulse racing.

My hands were growing sweatier by the second.

Yet even as my mind was caught up in a whirlwind, I could still see a group of large Orks storming towards me.

In desperation I reached into my longcoat and pulled out a little surprise.

A crude, self-constructed explosive.

Gritting my teeth I hurled it in the direction of the advancing green-skins.

The explosive landed directly in the path of the Orks, going off in a spectacular explosion. This in turn bought me enough time to escape.

Self-constructed explosives. In all my time on this miserable rock, they have never failed me.

Yet.

I headed for cover - in the form of one of the Ork huts. In the rear of the hut, under the cover of darkness, I paused to gather my thoughts.

I could still feel the sweat in my hands and my lungs breathing heavily.

I blinked, trying to comprehend what was happening here.

This battle wasnt like those that had come before it: Previously, it was taking the green-skins down one by one. Now, it was a full-frontal direct assault.

This wasn't guerrilla warfare: This was chaos and confusion on a grand scale.

Was this part of Bishops plan? What the hell was he thinking?!

It was then I realised it. This was war.

War that was exactly as I recalled it from being a grunt in the Imperial Guard.

The planets may have changed and the numbers on my end may have been dramatically reduced but it was all the same.

This is the full extent of Bishops mindset.

This isn't survival through cunning: This is survival through genocide

Sure this may be Orks and worth nothing less than our ammunition but were been driven through a meatgrinder.

I paused and took a deep gulp of air.

But in the end, a battle for survival is still a battle for survival.

And if Death is really hunting me down, then the least I can do is not keep him waiting

With a roar I leapt out from hiding and back into the fray.

* * *

As the afternoon sun descended, the encampment fell silent. The entire conclave of Orkish structures was now home to a mass of green bodies, smoke and mayhem. No green skin survivors were left and not a sound could be heard.

The whole operation lasted a full half hour. It was typical guerrilla strategy: strike hard and quickly before your opponent works out whats happening and can get his act together to make a counter strike.

I blinked trying to comprehend what had happened.

I was standing, in amongst a mass of ruined buildings with countless green rotting corpses at my feet.

I could feel my heart beat and my hand throb from the heat of two well-used bolt pistols.

All around me, I could see my comrades. Laertes was a short distance away, clutching his flamer with unshakable determination. From the looks of it, he was breathing in short bursts and his eyes were wild. Xerxes was standing near him shouting something I couldn't hear.

Nearby, the hulking form of Deacon was kneeling down before a corpse, picking over the remains of the Ork. Eventually, he pulled up something that resembled an Ork stikkbomb. Deacon smiled an evil grin.

Nearer towards me, Jessie came walking past, with an enormous grin of satisfaction across her face and a sword in her hand.

And in her other hand.

Noticing me, her eyes sparkled and she pulled up her other hand to proudly bring its contents into view.

And there, in front of me was the face of the biggest, most ugliest Ork I had ever seen (which in effect is saying something). Its mouth was wide open in a silent death scream, displaying a hideous display of tusks. And its eyes blazed with the ferocity of facing a hated foe.

Jessie looked especially delighted with this trophy. And without waiting for a reaction from me, she went on her way.

I blinked, trying to comprehend what had happened here.

It was all too clear: The planets may have changed and the numbers on my end may have been dramatically reduced but it was war all the same.

It would seem surviving on guerrilla tactics on an Ork World is no different than surviving on the commands on some faceless generals commands in the Imperial Guard.

Only here, there are even less rules.

It was then I heard two different sounds.

The first was the thud of two bolt pistols hitting the ground having fallen from my hands.

The second was the sound of someone approach.

I looked up to see Bishop marching towards me. Blood was stained across his bare chest, sweat dripped from his forehead and he bore an evil grinned.

He then seemed to pick up what I was thinking and cleared his throat.

"Once a soldier, always a soldier eh?"

I felt like leaping at him and tearing his throat out.

But instead I chuckled. Bishop started to as well

And then we both started laughing out loud.

Meanwhile high above came the caws of crows.

* * *

And so we moved on from the ruined village, the raid a complete success.

We made our way through the jungle in silence - even Laertes who must've had his blood-lust more than satisfied.

I then paused and looked up past the canopy and towards the sky.

When I started on this miserable rock it was me alone. Now, I have five companions.

They may not be the best but its better than nothing.

I smiled to myself: Now with five people watching my back, it would seem that I have a getter chance of survival.

For whatever good that is.

After all, I may be on the run, facing an execution, trapped on an Ork world, ignored by the rest of the Imperium, out of reach of the benevolent gaze of the God-Emperor, trapped with a group of lunatics who would rather see the Orks dead than me and facing no future at all.

But I can still have fun on this miserable rock.

* * *

It ain't over yet  
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	28. Epilogue

Dark Shard - Angelus Erroneous Epilogue

**Title:** Angelus Erroneous  
**Author**: Spike  
**Epilogue**

The hunter strode across the clearing, ash crunching beneath him with each step.

This place seemed to resemble a site of a former Ork village. Only now it had been attacked, raided and burnt to the ground no doubt by a rival Ork clan.

The hunter's scanners said that this was the place: The Orks had built a settlement right on top of what the hunter was looking for.

If only the green-skins knew what lay beneath their feet…..

Of course, it was one of many on this planet but each of one shouldn't remain in the enemy's possession.

Anyway, considering there were so many Ork tribes on this planet it seemed pointless to go after the raiders. They would've been long gone – and no doubt already run into a conflict with another clan.

At least that thought made his job easier.

He had no idea why he was lingering in this place. It wasn't like that he was expecting the Orks to leave behind something he could.

Then he noticed something.

A small glint that gleamed out from the ash.

The hunter raised an eyebrow. This glint was small and easily overlooked. But something was telling him that this seemed different from the Orkish technology he had became acquainted with. It seemed it didn't belong on this world..

The hunter knelt down and dug at this discovery with his fingers. It seemed small and insignificant but something compelled him to pick it up. An instinct, a curiosity, a sense of foreboding or maybe a combination of all three.

And what he found was something that changed everything completely.

It was a small ammunition clip, crude in manufacture and unlike anything he had seen since arriving on this planet. It was also warm suggesting that it has been used recently and whoever did couldn't be too far away.

And, most importantly of all, it bore the image of a double headed eagle - the unmistakable insignia of the Imperium of man.

The hunter could feel his eyes hardened. He certainly wasn't expecting to see this.

It would seem that Orks aren't the only aliens on this planet.

**The End?**

* * *

**Author Conclusion**

Well it's been a long time in development but this story has finally been completed!  
I would like to say big thank you to everyone who took the time to read this story and post reviews for it. Writing this story has indeed been a long and difficult process but I really appreciate the encouragement and positive feedback from all the readers - particularly those who were delighted to see a story about some average Joe as opposed to Space Marines (seems I wasn't the only one!).

Special thanks to: Brother Andyn, Death Korps, I am Silence and Templar of the Stars (hope the kill team you came up with kicks arse!)

Stayed tuned for the sequel...

* * *

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